Darkened Warrior, Lost Spirits
by ChaosLilKat
Summary: Running Coyote is a hunter, she's also a Lakota Sioux who can perceive things most people can't. She used to roam the country doing jobs like most hunters but for the last three years has stayed closer to home in South Dakota. She met Dean at Bobby's. After the Boys opened the Hell Gate some demons came to her home. She called Bobby, Bobby told her to call Sam and Dean.
1. Chapter 1

I pulled into the motel parking lot, there she sat. I'd recognize that car anywhere. The memories of her, I and whichever one of the boys I had been with at the time were some of the most interesting and, shall we say, spatially challenging of any I had. That back seat was large but neither of Sam, Dean or I were particularly short. Some people would probably give me some flack for having spent "quality" time with both of them, but life's short, especially in our line of work. Besides most hunters aren't quite as attractive as they are and I'm not what one would call a traditional hunter.

I parked next to Baby, got out and walked to room 211. This was a fancier hotel, it had more than one floor. It appeared the boys were living large these days. The curtain twitched before I could knock on the door, living large and more paranoid than usual. That's never a good sign.

"Still driving that piece of crap?" Dean said as he opened the door to let me in.

I looked over the balcony at my deep purple 2010 Challenger SRT 8 then back at Dean, "You mean the 8 cylinder, 425 horsepower, 6 speed stick shift that kicks Baby's ass on the straightaway and the curves? Yeah, guess I am."

He growled at me, Sam's muffled laugh came from inside the room. "Shut up Sam," he grumbled and stepped to one side to let me in.

"Nice to see you too Dean," I remarked as I walked by him and went down the small hallway then turned into the room itself. That trademark Sam Winchester smile greeted me right before I got bear hugged. Damn that man's strong, he must have started working out since last time I saw him,"At least one of you is happy to see me," I grunted as he held me tight for a brief moment.

"Hey there Running Coyote," Sam said, "We haven't seen you in a year or two."

"Has it been that long? Time flies I guess."

"I'm happy to see you too," Dean protested.

"You must be, that greeting was slightly more civilized then the last one."

Dean rolled his eyes, "I apologized! We were chasing a shifter."

I shook my head, "Oh that's right, that was the reason you stabbed first and asked questions later."

Dean threw his hands up, walked to the fridge, pulled out two beers and tossed one at me, "Here."

I caught it and glared at him, "Really Winchester? A beer? Get your ass over here and say hi the right way."

He managed to keep the smile off his lips but the edges of his eyes crinkled up and the right corner of his mouth twitched once or twice. "Oh fine." His hug wasn't as tight as Sam's but I was lucky I made it out of both embraces with my ribs intact.

"That's better. We'll teach you manners yet, right Sam?"

"It's my life long quest," Sam replied with a put upon sigh, "The weight of which is getting heavier through the years."

Dean's eyes narrowed as he sat back down by the window, "This is why I always try to keep you two separated."

I had to get one more dig in before getting down to business, "You old people are just no fun."

"Wasn't there something important you had to tell us?" Dean asked, choosing deflection over verbal hand to hand combat.

"I'll go easy on you this time," I said as I set my beer down on the bedside table. "Yes there is. Something's going on at the Reservation. Something I've never seen before. The rumor is that you two have been working your way up the all things dark and evil food chain so I thought you might have a clue and Bobby agreed with me. I usually go to him but he said you have some specialized gear that may come in handy."

"Yeah, we've acquired some new toys," Dean said, "Fill us in."

I didn't want to think about what I had seen but I didn't have a choice.

"It started a week ago," I began, the brothers shot each other a concerned look. "I'll come back and ask what that look was about when I'm done. Anyway, we were holding a healing ceremony and everything was going as planned. Then the fire that was burning outside the healing room started shooting up into the sky for no reason and black clouds came from nowhere and spiraled around us. We called on our Spirits to help us and try to keep us safe from whatever it was. The only gear I had with me was the pouches of salt I always carry. I drew a quick circle on the ground around myself, shouted at some of the other tribe members to do the same and threw them my spare pouches. The Spirits and the salt circles seemed to work and the clouds flew off in different directions. We all thought it was over. The Shaman finished the healing ceremony and we went home." I paused, took a drink and continued, "I told everyone to put salt on their doors and windows just in case and everything seemed normal the next day. It wasn't until the second day after the healing ceremony that things started going wrong. Fox Who Sings and her husband White Hawk are in the middle of Nagi Gluhapi and what they did, well, they are no longer pure."

I had to stop, I had been there and tried to stop them. It had started as an unprovoked fight but how it ended, the cruelty of it. What I sensed in them and from them, no Spirit I've ever seen or heard of felt like whatever had taken control of them.

"Nagi Gluhapi?" Sam asked, pronouncing it almost perfectly on the first try.

"Keeping of the Soul," I explained drawing blank looks from both of them. "The short version, we have different beliefs than you do about the soul. We purify a lock of hair of the deceased, tie it up in a sacred bundle and a close family member keeps it and cares for the bundle for a year. It helps those who are left behind when someone dies to mourn and accept death."

A slight look of disgust crossed Dean's face, Sam seemed caught halfway between shock and curiosity. I sighed. "I know how hunters usually view souls and remains. My people don't view them the same way white people do. The point of the ceremony is those who are Keeping the Soul spend the whole year trying to remain pure in intent and sacred in thought and action. We believe that this both helps prepare the soul for it's journey after death and helps the community because it encourages people to act in more respectful ways. If a Keeper of a Soul does something that is not sacred or that encourages disharmony we believe that affects the soul and it's final destination in the afterlife."

Dean shifted in his chair, processing what I had told him. It took a minute or two before he spoke, "Ok, so what did they do that screwed up this Nagi Glu-thing?"

"They went over to their neighbor's house and started a fight...,"

"So?" Dean interrupted.

"First off, during that year of Keeping the Soul you are not supposed to start fights or cause disharmony," I snapped. That was the one thing that always bugged me about Dean, he always cut in when others' were talking. "Secondly, it wasn't a friendly fight or minor disagreement Dean. They brought knives and stabbed the neighbors several times for no reason. I got there just before they finished off the adults and started in on the kids." My hands shook as the memory of it hit me again, "It was a slaughterhouse guys. This wasn't about murder, it was about desecration."

The blood wasn't what bothered me, it was the energies or auras as some people call them, that were in that house. Swirling pools of blackness and death spun around White Hawk and Fox Who Sings. I remember watching a documentary on the La Brea Tar Pits and how animals would get caught in them and slowly sink into them and die a horrible, long, painful death. What I saw reminded me of that. Pits of tar tainting my home, pulling everyone towards them. The ones they had killed, their Spirits screamed not just in pain, but in horror and fear of what was around them yet some force pulled them into those obsidian pools of pure evil. I wasn't sure if their souls would ever be able to walk the path into the afterlife and pass the tests to move beyond this world.

Sam's voice interrupted my thoughts, "Running Coyote?"

"Sorry."

"How'd you stop them?" Dean asked.

"After the night of the Healing Ceremony I had a hunch that I may need some help. I called Bobby who said Holy Water and salt would be the best things to use until I got you guys to come help. he also said that if I wanted to keep my friends alive the best thing to do was to try to weaken the things possessing them and then put them in this thing called a Devil's Trap which was new to me. He sent me a photo of one, told me how to make it. I drew one in an empty house on the Rez, then put a salt circle around that and another circle with a bunch of containers of Holy Water all laid end to end. Just in case. I live a block down from White Hawk and Fox Who Sings. I was sitting in my living room when something told me I had to go to their house. I grabbed the shotgun with the salt shells, the bottles of Holy Water and a friend and burst in. I was either too late or just in time, depending on how you want to look at it."I took another drink, "The Holy Water and salt made an impact and my friend, who's almost as big as you Sam, managed to knock them out. Then we moved them to the house with the Devil's Trap. I called Bobby to tell him I needed you guys as soon as possible. He told me where you were and I set out that evening. I hate two day drives."

Dean handed me another beer, I hadn't noticed mine was empty. I must have needed it more than I thought, "Yeah, sorry we weren't closer," he said, "but at least you didn't have to drive four days."

"True."

The brothers looked at each other again. I was pretty sure there was guilt in their eyes.

"Ok, enough of the secret glances you two. What do you know?"

"It's a long story," Sam started out.

"Shorten it then," I said. Apparently Dean isn't the only one who interrupts others.

He winced and what I call the "understanding wrinkles" appeared on his forehead. "We, sort of, accidentally opened a gate to Hell, but it's closed now." He rushed the last part out, hoping that somehow it would make what he had said all better.

I slowly set my bottle of beer on the table, "I technically don't believe in Hell but I would imagine that's not good. I'm also wondering how you "accidentally" do that?"

Dean took over, "That would be the long story part." His face held no expression which I had learned over the years meant he wasn't about to go into detail.

Trying to get Dean to talk about something he didn't want to was a battle I wasn't up to fighting at the moment, "Ok, so? You opened a gate to Hell. What does that mean exactly?"

"Things from Hell came out," Dean answered, "Demons."

Pain and shame came and went from his eyes, faster than you'd pound a shot of whiskey on a bad day.

"Are they what's controlling my friends?"

"At any time did their eyes turn completely black?" Sam asked.

"Yes, once we got them in the Devil's Trap. They went black, then back to normal and then they started ranting about how we were weak, pathetic things and to just wait until they got out."

Dean slammed down the rest of his beer, "You've got demons."

"And you two let them out?" My sense of calm was quickly fading.

Sam looked at Dean, his face tight with sorrow. "Yes," he admitted in a quiet voice.

"Can we get these demons out of them?" They both looked away from me, "I'm not going to like this answer am I?"

"We can exorcise them but the people they are in don't always survive that," Dean said, still refusing to look at me, "You trapped them early so there's a better chance since the demons haven't had time to ride the humans too hard."

"That's not all," Sam continued, "The people, your friends, they know what they did. The demons usually take over but let the people stay aware enough to see what they are doing."

I could feel the blood draining from my face, "So..." I couldn't even speak the words.

"Yeah," Dean answered.

I chanted a prayer to the Great Spirit under my breath as I tried to wrap my mind around what they had told me. As I did, I felt something and looked closer at the brothers. I usually don't go about viewing people's energies for fun. I've learned to control what I see and when I see it, so unless it's something truly powerful, like what was currently in my town, I don't perceive much until I want to. However, when I chant I tend to automatically begin to go into an altered state, my shock at what they told me made me slip up. There was something wrong with Dean and Sam's energies. If I didn't know better I would say Sam had died even though he was breathing and talking right in front of me. His lines of energy, his path, it had been severed then patched up with something that oozed darkness and lies, and Dean; I didn't even know what it was that I saw twisting and tying him to a path that seemed to lead to nowhere good. Behind and to the left of where he sat there was a slouching thing. It was vaguely dog like. It seemed to be stalking him, waiting for something. A writhing, sickly, purple thread of power stretched from the dog-thing's neck and looped around Dean's throat. I caught myself just before I bolted off the bed I was sitting on. The brothers didn't know all that much about what I could perceive.

"Hey. You all right?" Sam asked.

I stood up and started to close my alternate perceptions down. "I probably just need some food." They both gave me an odd look, then I remembered what they had told me, "We can't leave them possessed by those demons. If they survive the tribe will help them deal with what happened. What's involved in this exorcism?"

"Not much supplies wise," Dean answered, "We have everything we need in Baby's trunk. We can leave when you're ready. Demons have a way of convincing people to do things. If you have people watching them they're vulnerable to being influenced. The sooner we get there the better."

What I had perceived from Sam and Dean made things much more complicated. My teacher, Rising Dove, would be able to see how tainted they were and would not want to let them approach the demons without going through some sort of cleansing. I had no idea how to inform the brothers of that without telling them about what I could see. In most hunters eyes what I could see made me something other than human, which to most of them, meant something not worth keeping alive. I knew Sam and Dean were more reasonable than your average hunter but still. Dean had a point though, we had to get back as soon as we could. Which gave me two days to explain that I could see auras, talk to spirits and perceive supernatural energies to two of the best and most stubborn hunters in the country. On the bright side, at least the drive wouldn't be boring.

I decided to rely on sound military tactics, divide and conquer. "Good point Dean. Sam? I have an 8gig Ipod in the car and it's permanently on shuffle. Would you care to ride with me for a few miles?"

Dean rolled his eyes and Sam's face lit up like a kid on Christmas. "Hell yeah I would."

I winked at Dean, "Try to keep up darling. I hate not being able to get out of fourth gear because I have to wait for slow ass drivers in antique cars."

Dean closed his eye and took a deep breath, "Now I have two of them to deal with," he muttered, then turned and went into the bathroom.

Sam and I smiled at each other, he bust out laughing and grabbed his gear. "We getting something to eat on the way out of town?" He asked.

"Probably should, I'm starving and you know how Dean is. That reminds me." I grabbed my backpack and pulled out two pieces of homemade pecan pie I picked up on the way. I had passed a small bakery that was next to a gas station about four hours away from where the brothers were. When I got out of the car all that delicious aroma of fresh baked pie filled the air, even blocking out the usual gas station smells and I decided to bring a little surprise for them. Sam's eyes lit up and he opened his mouth to say something but I put my hand over his mouth before he could get a word out. "Shh."

He nodded, I pulled my hand away and winked at him, "How do you stay sane hearing the same five albums over and over anyway? I mean, isn't that type of repetitive listening a sign of senility?" I asked.

Sam choked back a laugh as I handed him one of the pieces. "Either that or insanity," he chimed in.

Dean's muffled and slightly offended voice came from the other side of the door. "I can still hear you, you know."  
>I crossed the room in three strides and stood right in front of the bathroom door, "Well, if you still have your hearing not all is lost my dear," I replied. The door flew open and I was treated to a full force angry Dean glare, green eyes hard and cranky looking, eyebrows lowered and lips tight. I raised the piece of pie to eye level and watched as his mouth dropped wide open.<p>

"Is that?"

"Freshly made four hours ago. I even brought a fork."

He took the pie from my hand, "See Sam, at least she brings pie."

"And?" I asked.

He paused in between bites, "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Silence filled the room for several minutes until Dean started moaning in appreciation, "God, I needed that."

"Glad I could help out. Shall we?" They both nodded, grabbed their bags and we headed to the cars.

"Do you think we could stop at the place you got the pie on the way back?" Dean asked as he loaded his bags into his car.

"Yes dear, but if you ask me are we there yet we'll turn right back around and come back here," I replied.

"A simple yes would have been fine." He got into the driver's seat and Baby roared to life. Sam and I got into my car, I pushed the button to start it and revved my engine the obligatory amount of times to prove my point. I looked over at Dean who shook his head as he backed out of the parking lot. Sam laughed, I turned on some music and pulled in behind Dean on the road. How the hell was I going to start this conversation?


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2 **

I spent about an hour telling Sam the names of the groups and the songs that were playing as we drove.

"You know, there's this thing called youtube where you can listen to music," I said finally, "I can even show you a program that let's you download the music from the videos. It's sad how far behind you are on the music scene, Sam, tragic really."

"I know, trust me, I know," he answered. "I do listen to stuff on the laptop sometimes, but, well you know how it gets on the road."

"Yeah, I don't think I'd be able to be in close quarters with someone all the time like you two are. That takes more patience then I have."

The edges of his mouth took on a rueful quirk and he half shrugged. "We're brothers. We figure it out one way or the other."

I looked in the rear view mirror. Once we had hit the freeway I took lead position since Dean had no idea where we were actually going. Dean had kept pace with me and I had the oddest thought that the car was a black crow, gliding behind me like some sort of omen. "So how long do you give Dean until he tries to race me?"

He laughed, "You may be surprised. Baby's not exactly stock anymore."

I pulled the long braid I was wearing my hair in out from behind me, it kept digging into my back and looked at him. "Really? What's he done to her?"

He slyly put his finger over his lips and shook his head.

"What? Did he swear you to secrecy?"

I got nothing but a smug smile in reply then he turned his head and looked out of the window.

I shook my head and checked the mirror again, a habit born out of a combination of both carrying illegal weapons in my car when hunting and just being a Native. Depending on the area I was in I'd run across people who took issue with me based on how I looked. Apparently some people had difficulty in perceiving the difference in skin colors that weren't white. I was dark, even for a Native but my skin had an ironwood red undertone that people seemed to not pick up on. I was also close to six feet tall and broad shouldered for a woman. I knew from experience that Dean's shirts fit me almost as well as they fit him. I tended to wear a decent amount of turquoise and gemstone jewelry and kept my coal black, straight hair in braids pretty much all the time. I took more after my father than my mother in appearance. My face was very round and broad, my lips were thinner than I thought they should be, maybe my wide nose just made them look that way. I may as well have a pair of Apache Tears for eyes as black as they were. The only thing I thought was remotely feminine about my face was how thick my eyes lashes were, I'd never need mascara. Even with all of that people still mistook me for Mexican, South American or, for some insane reason, African American and decided to take issue with me showing up in their town. As a result I tended to look over my shoulder a lot, even if I was out in the middle of the desert. You never knew who or what was around or what they believed.

I would never be considered stunningly attractive. The terms strong, handsome and occasionally regal usually got attached to any description of me. Willowy, svelte, seductive or graceful would never apply to me. I'm as apt to hit you as I am to hit on you. Even though I teased Dean about it, hit first and ask questions later is a standard hunter procedure. Over the years I found it tended to keep me out of trouble. When people figured out I wouldn't back down they usually backed away.

"What have you been up to since that nest we took down?" Sam asked, his eyes were still pointed out the window but something in his posture changed. It seemed like an innocent question but he was nervous about something.

My right hand twitched on the gear shift. Do I stay with vague small talk or risk he and Dean flipping out on me? I had divided them up for a reason and he was the one who asked.

"Learning, teaching, making myself useful." There was a leading answer, I was curious to see if he would push things. Hunters learn how to ride in silence for days at a time but I had a feeling that Sam was looking for conversation with someone other than Dean. Don't get me wrong, Dean's intelligent but he's not the type to delve into wider philosophical topics.

I caught the turn of his head out of my peripheral vision, he pushed his hair back as he shifted in his seat. "Learning? About what?"

"Shamanism, my people's heritage. Teaching that too, along with a few other things." That got him interested, so far so good.

"You know, I've always found it weird that we hunt things from cultures all over the world yet most hunters are pretty narrow in what they believe," he said, "I mean, Bobby speaks at least two other languages and has one of the biggest book collections of any hunter I know, but it's like hunters either believe in God or nothing. Maybe hunters in other countries are different. Dean I and have killed things that were considered gods at one point in history or by certain people and we've never really talked about what that means."

"Well, it's your lucky week," I replied.

"Why's that?"

"Once we cross over into the Reservation, you are technically in another country."

"Huh," he grunted, eyebrows pulling towards each other in speculation, "I'd forgotten about that. Can you tell me anything about what you're learning?"

Hooked him, "Yes and no. It's not really something you can explain with words. How far are you willing to suspend the hunter motto of not human means it's better off dead."

I didn't expect the reaction I got, he hid it pretty fast but he flinched as I said the motto, his eyes dropped away from me as his lips tightened. "Pretty far," he whispered then pulled his eyes back to my face. Whatever it was that I saw in his energy had to be something pretty damn scary for Sam to look like that.

"Okay. The basic concept of Shamanism is you enter an altered state to communicate with the Spirits around you and use the energy of the Spirit world to affect things in this one."

"That sounds pretty much like witches or psychics," he said.

"Well, most aboriginal beliefs are based in that same philosophy. Most religions are too if you look at prayer as a way of contacting an energy outside yourself to help you. Shamans and shamanism goes a lot deeper than prayer though. To a Shaman the Spirit world is just as real as this one, there is no real difference. They affect each other and it's the Shaman's job to try to keep it all straight. We believe that Spirits cause illness, that souls can become stranded and we have to retrieve them and guide them, even just part of a soul. We serve as mediators between the Spirit world and this one, trying to gain knowledge, guidance and sometimes favors from that one to help here, It's a very interconnected system."

"When you talk about retrieving souls. Is that like dealing with a ghost?"

"Only in the broadest of terms. Look, hunters see ghosts as primarily evil things. We see them as lost kin and offer them respect. If the spirit is particularly cranky we try to help it heal, or find the rest of its soul so it can move on. We would never burn bones to make a spirit go away, that's like killing it all over again. It works, I'll grant you, but the spirit never gets to truly heal and move on. It's just vanishes, never to receive that sense of peace that the dead should get."

"This ritual or whatever your friends were doing, that's part of that belief," he said, "You see the spirit of the dead as still part of the community, not some lost thing."

"Right." I gave him a few moments to ponder that. "Shamans can see things most people can't. We see omens where someone like you may just see a crow on a tree or a hawk diving in for a kill. We don't just go to Church on Sundays, we live in our Church. It's the world around us, every single thing in it is connected to something else in some way."

"Can Shamans shape shift? I've heard of that."

"In a way, we don't become the animal. As fun as that would be, it's about melding with what that animal is, their power, their...," I paused, searching for the words, "essence and knowledge I guess is the best way to put it. We see animals as guides and Spirits who can teach us things."

"Nothing you've really said would make a hunter want to kill you," Sam said.

"Maybe not you or Bobby or Dean, but there are plenty of others that would have no problem pulling the trigger. Sam, I see things, I talk to Spirits, sometimes I get glimpses into the future. There are plenty of hunters that would see me as a freak." He winced at the word freak.

"Maybe, I guess," he muttered and looked out the window again. I just waited.

Bohemian Rhapsody played all the way through, followed by Clocks by Coldplay and neither of us spoke. We were halfway through Dead Can Dance's song Cantara when he spoke again, "What does learning to be a Shaman entail?"

"A lot of long hikes, silence and listening. It's not that exciting to watch. When I'm not out collecting plants, my teacher is telling me stories and explaining ceremonies then he sends me out to, as he puts it, unlearn myself."

Sam didn't speak, the tilt of his head and scrunched up mouth asked the question for him.

"When I know exactly what that means I'll be a Shaman."

A smile unscrunched his mouth and bright some life back into his eyes. I hadn't noticed how dead and tired they seemed until then, "It sounds very Bruce Lee-ish."

"It is." I agreed. "All the wise ones learned how to just meld and mesh into the moment and the world around them. We all carry too much garbage with us, makes it hard to hear what it is the Spirits are trying to tell us."

"What about the rain dances I remember hearing about in school?"

"Yeah, we don't do those much anymore. I think even the Shamans had to give way to weather satellites on that one."

The Impala's headlights flashed in my mirror just as we passed a sign telling us that if we didn't stop here for gas and food it'd be another hundred miles before we got another chance. "Dean wants to pull off. Baby must still suck gas."

Sam rolled his eyes, "Yeah, she does."

We pulled off, I had plenty of gas but decided I'd fill up instead of poking fun at Dean about it.

I got out of the car the same time as Dean did, he stretched his back and I heard the distinct sound of joints popping and cracking.

"Don't even," he muttered as he walked past me to pay for gas.

"What?"

He turned, pointed his finger at me and his left eyebrow shot up, "I saw that look." he said walking backwards the last few steps before the curb. He shook his finger at me and I wasn't sure if he was scolding me or warning me, then he turned, pulled open the door and disappeared into the small storefront.

I gave Sam the most neutral look I could pull off while choking down laughter, "I said nothing."

Sam just shook his head and walked around the front of my car, "Snacks on me. What do you want?"

"Water, banana, trail mix and a Snickers bar. Maybe a cold coffee drink if they have it. Thanks."

"No problem. Be right back." He headed off to join his brother.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3 **

I needed to stretch my legs before we got back on the road. I had already driven six hours that day and was looking at another three before we made it to the 24 hour truck stop/hotel where I'd booked us some rooms. The sound of work boots scuffing on gravel came from behind me, I tensed until I got a whiff of Dean's aftershave.

"So?" he asked.

I turned around and pointed out the obvious, "That's a particularly broad question."

"What's the plan?"

"Drive three more hours, check into the hotel, eat and sleep. That's my plan any way. I've already been on the road for eight hours today," I informed him. He looked a lot more tired than he should be for only being on the road for two hours. "You look tired."

He shrugged off my observation and looked away, "Sammy and I got in late and I didn't sleep much."

"Have Sam drive the last bit." I suggested.

A wry grin crossed his face and a hint of the jokster Dean brightened those green eyes of his, "What? Ruin all his fun? He was humming and dancing while grabbing your snacks. I'll be fine."

"You spoil him too much. Keep this up and he'll be demanding all the money in his trust fund."

An actual full on smile finally appeared and brought the rest of his face to life, "Little does he know it's buried under one of the cars at Bobby's place. Along with all the family silver and the signed Monet we have."

I solemnly used my left hand to draw a cross over my heart, "Your secret's safe with me Dean."

The smile faded to be replaced by an appraising look. "You look good, happy." His face didn't show it but his voice held something I never thought I'd hear from Dean. Regret, wistfulness and an odd sense of loss.

"Been doing things other than hunting, finding my path I guess you could say."

He nodded and turned around as Sam walked up. "Got everything you asked for," he said.

"Thanks Sam," I replied as he handed me a bag. Coffee was required first and I dug out the bottle filled with caffeine and sugar laden goodness. Dean turned back to me and started to say something. "Pie place is about an hour before the truck stop, " I said, "I haven't forgotten."

A beatific smile broke out on his face and he looked up at Sam, "See, this is why I always liked having her around."

Sam sighed, "Thanks Running Coyote. He's never, ever going to let this go."

"Like this thing with him and pie is new? You should just automatically get it every time you stop Sam. Don't blame me."

Dean just pointed at me and gave Sam the "See? She gets it." look and walked back to the Impala.

"Shall we?" I asked Sam, giving him a slight bow and a flourish with my arm in the direction of the car.

He decided to play along, "Why yes, I think we shall."

We piled back into the cars. I smoked my tires on the way out just to egg Dean on, that and it's just fun to do.

"You two are like little kids when it comes to your cars, seriously," Sam said.

"Hey, you've been on the road long enough to know you have to find some way to amuse yourself. Besides, Dean's ego about Baby needs to be knocked down every now and again."

He raised his hands up in surrender, "I'm staying out of that one. What else can you tell me about what you have been up to?"

I spent the next hour and a half regaling him with tales not only of what Shamanism is, but kids I had been tutoring in school and the crazy things they'd done, daily life on the reservation and just random things. He was obviously hungry for stories that didn't involve creatures of the night that he had to hunt and kill. Stories of a normal life. I'd forgotten he'd had that for a few years. That was something Sam and I had in common, a college education. I'd gotten a bachelors in engineering, my original plan had been to use my education to help build infrastructure for my people. Maybe help them make more than $3000 a year on average. I got offered some high paying jobs pretty fast out of school and lost sight of why I had originally gone. I kept telling myself, "I'll go back next year, I just want to save some more money."

The Great Spirit, the economic crash and my talent of seeing into the other realms derailed me into hunting. I was pretty sure the Great Spirit wanted me to go back to the Reservation first but when I saw the vampire trying to kill a kid I took up hunting instead. I'm twenty nine now, I started hunting when I was twenty three. I got lucky, or maybe not, and met Bobby early on and he took me under his wing. For three or four years I hunted pretty much non stop, I thought it was my path. I was using my abilities and saving others. Then my father passed away, suicide. He had been studying to be the next tribe Shaman after Rising Dove passed on. I couldn't leave my tribe without a Shaman, so I went home. I haven't fully retired from hunting yet but I can see a point when I will. Watching the unabashed interest Sam had in my stories from home I was getting the impression that for whatever reason, retirement wasn't an option for the Winchesters.

It was time to start digging, "Enough about me. My throat's getting dry from all this talking. What trouble have you two been getting in?"

Instantly Sam went from interested and engaged to closed up and wary. "Just hunting, nothing all that special."

"And opening gates to Hell," I reminded him.

"Yeah, that too."

"Right then, so you don't want to talk."

He turned away from me, "Not really."

"You always were a bad liar, Sam. Your mouth says no but your eyes say yes."

"I just can't. It's too complicated and confusing."

The longer we had been driving the more whispering my Spirit guides and instincts had been doing. The only way to get Sam to understand was to make him realize I knew more about what had happened to him than he thought. I just hope he didn't tuck and roll out of the car in shock, or worse, try to kill me. I had been subtly trying to get him to open up but that hadn't worked and I was running out of time. I saw the sign for the pie place approaching and drifted over to the exit lane so Dean would know we were getting off the freeway soon.

"Fine, I'll make it easy for you. How long ago did you die, or come close to it?"

Hitting him with a cattle prod wouldn't have made him jump that high. I thought he'd given himself whiplash as fast as he spun his head around to stare at me, "How the hell?"

"Shaman in training," I reminded him. He kept staring.

I sighed, "Remember when I got spooked back at the hotel?" He nodded. "I had started chanting under my breath when you told me about the demons and accidentally slipped into an altered state. I saw your line, path or whatever word works best for you, had been cut and patched back together by something dark, deceitful and nasty. I also saw that Dean's picked up a new friend that looks like a cross between a dog and a pile of sludge."

He was still staring, mouth slightly open and eyes intense as he processed what I was telling him. "So you didn't hear about any of it from Bobby or someone else?"

"Sam, Bobby keeps secrets better than anyone, you know that. As far as I know I'm not on the Winchester need to know list either."

"Why? Why are you bringing this up?"

Sam never was slow on the uptake. I pulled off the freeway as the pie exit appeared and found myself stalling for time. "Because, if I can see that something is wrong with you two, Rising Dove will see even more. You're tainted, both of you."

A sharp, hissing, intake of breath came from Sam when I said tainted. "I hate that word," he whispered.

"Rising Dove may not allow you to help until you've been cleansed in some way."

Sam laughed, it was the most bitter, lost, depressed and hopeless sound I had ever heard him make. "Good luck with that. You may as well leave us here. We can't be purified, trust me, we've tried. There is no going back for us. It's not just because I died and came back that makes me tainted."

"I can't leave you here," I told him, "My Latin is horrid and you have the experience in this, I don't."

"Well I can tell you that nothing anyone, including a Shaman, can do will purify us." The way he looked at that moment, I had seen it so many times on the faces of my brothers and sisters in my tribe. Absolute desolation and desperation. Sam had given up hope, at least for himself. He'd keep fighting and trying, but he knew deep down it was a meaningless gesture.

Still the Spirits whispered at me, telling me that the brothers needed to come, that there was something they had to do, had to see, had to feel.  
>"Maybe purifying isn't what they have in store for you," I muttered to myself, "At least not in the traditional sense."<p>

"What?"

"Sorry, getting instructions," I replied, "Never mind. Would you submit to a ceremony?"

"What are you talking about?" He looked more concerned about the idea than confused about my ramblings.

"You won't be getting bound or sold or whatever to anything," I explained, some of the tension left his shoulders. "It's a sweat lodge ceremony."

"Why?"

"They have to tell you something, the Spirits," I paused and could tell I had lost him, "Here we go, this is what I hate most about talking Shamanism to white people. Look, you have to trust me."

He shook his head and leaned away from me, "You have no idea how little Dean and I want to hear from any Spirits. We're going to help you get rid of demons. Dean won't agree to this and I don't see the point."

We pulled up to the pie place, I parked and it hit, the vision. I saw Dean screaming in pain, then licking blood from a knife, Sam was falling into an abyss, giving himself over to some greater force, then I was back.

I felt Sam's hand on my shoulder shaking me, "Hey! Hey!"

"I'm back," I gritted out between my clenched teeth, my head was pounding. "At least they waited until I parked."

"What happened?"

"Vision."

He took his hand off of me and shot me an understanding look, "I hate those, they suck."

"How would you know?" I asked.

"Part of the tainting thing. What did you see?"

"The point of you coming," I replied. I turned the car off and got out. I needed some space.


	4. Chapter 4

** CHAPTER 4**

The bakery/gas station was also a small diner. From the smells that hit my nose when I got out I would guess that they had just finished barbequing some chicken.

"Wow! Do you smell that?" I heard Dean say, "Hey, Running Coyote? Where are you going?

I looked over my shoulder right before I got to the road's edge "For a walk, I'll be back in a few."

Dean wasn't buying it but I wasn't ready to talk. "It wasn't real, it hasn't happened." I told myself over and over, Dean's eyes, they'd been black, he'd been enjoying licking that blood. He'd looked so cruel, so evil. Every sense I had was responding to the vision. The way my heart was pounding it felt like I had just run a marathon, or three. Chills were running up and down my spine and I kept looking in all directions because I felt hunted. The Dean in my vision, every fiber and cell in his body wanted to kill, to desecrate, to destroy, he felt like what had attacked my friends.

If that wasn't bad enough how vision Sam felt was even more confusing. Sam wasn't Sam, but he was, but he wasn't. There was something else trying to override and control him and it screamed in rage when Sam tumbled down into the gaping, spiraling hole of nothingness. He had been looking at something when he fell, guilt and sorrow twisting his features, tears streaming down his face, his whole being resigned to falling into the abyss. I had caught something in the tilt of his head and the shape of his mouth right before he disappeared from view, relief and a weird sense of victory. Sam was proud of making this choice.

I frigging hate visions, "What the hell does all this mean?" I threw out to my guides, who, of course had become suddenly silent on the issue. "Typical." I thought there weren't a lot of perks to being a hunter, until I started following the Shaman path. Lots of confusion and responsibility and very few rewards, especially these days. "All right Coyote, get your crap together. Sam's going to tell Dean what happened. Maybe if I am really lucky Dean will listen when I talk instead of becoming even more belligerent then usual."

I stopped walking and gazed out into the prairie land that surrounded me. A breeze picked up brushing through the bits of my hair that had fallen loose from my braid. I felt my feathered earrings dance along the side of my neck in response to the wind's playful mood. Something was watching me, I shifted my eyes left and saw a coyote just standing there, in broad daylight. It's tail was slightly raised, ears and eyes locked on me "Hello brother," I whispered to it.

"You idjit." Was what I got in reply. I didn't hear it so much as the words just popped into my head.

"Seriously. What is this? The Great Spirit according to Bobby?" The coyote yipped at me, it sounded like a laugh, shook it's head and trotted away. "I should have remembered, life is always more complicated when you get the Winchesters involved. Fine! Have it your way." I spun on my heel, more frustrated than when I got out of the car but less panicked. Frustrated I can deal with. "Let's get this over with." I headed back up the street. The diner/bakery/gas station – things tend to multi-task a lot out in the rural parts of the country – had been blue at one point. If I had to guess I would say bright robin's egg blue. Now it was faded more into plains dust covered, wind beaten partly cloudy day blue- or rather blue-ish. The sign on the door had been recently replaced and it's bright colors and perky lettering spelling out, "Take a Load Off Diner" seemed almost garish in comparison. The furnishings inside were outdated but clean and there was a small fenced in porch with several large potted plants providing shade in the back. The porch gave you a great view of the plains and the purplish foothills in the distance. That's where I found the brothers, smack in the middle of an intense conversation.

They were sitting across from each other, plates of bbq'd chicken, potato salad, chips and baked beans in front of them. There was a covered plate to the left side of Dean in front of an empty seat. I assumed that was for me. In the middle of the table was an entire blueberry pie, my favorite, Dean had remembered.

"Sam, I don't care what we have to do. We let those demons out, they hurt people, we have to fix that. End of story."

I about fell over when I heard that. Dean was more willing than Sam?

"Look," Sam replied, "I know I'm normally the one that's all for trying new things, but this is a waste of time. We should be trying to find something to help you. The sweat ceremonies can take hours, hours we don't have."

Dean's fork slammed onto the table, I wasn't the person he was angry at and I stopped in my tracks. His jaw tightened from the effort he was exerting to not lash out even further at Sam, "Stop trying to save me Sam," his voice was low, almost guttural, "We do our job, we clean up our mess and we move on. Understood?

Sam's shoulders tightened but he looked away, ceding the point to his older brother even if he didn't agree. "Fine. Whatever."

Dean's features relaxed, then I realized what was driving his rage, it was fear. He leaned back in his chair and his eyes did the instinctive hunter motion, checking all around for threats or eavesdroppers and spotted me. I could see him wondering if I had overheard their conversation and the instant he realized I had, my face probably gave it away. We locked eyes, his narrowed in thought, he tried to smile but it didn't reach his eyes and looked more like a grimace then a grin. "We got you some food," he said, trying to pretend everything was normal.

"And pie I see, thanks." I decided to let Dean off the hook and follow his lead.

"Fair's fair," Dean replied with a small nod, "You bought my favorite, I get you yours."

I squeezed his shoulder as I walked by and sat next to him, "I didn't buy you a whole one."

"Who said all of this was for you?"

"So, I'm going to have to fight Sam for a piece and you get the rest?"

He nodded as he took a drink of soda, "Yup, that's the plan."

Sam had stayed sullen and silent throughout this whole exchange. He took a few more bites of food, gathered his plate and stood up, "I'll meet you guys at the cars when you're ready to go, I need a walk. I'll have them pack this to go." Then he left without another word.

I uncovered my plate, saw my food was still warm and tried the chicken. My taste buds immediately thanked me for it. "Damn!"

"Yeah. The couple that own the place know how to cook," Dean agreed with me.

"Everything ok?" I asked between bites.

The cars were in view of Dean and I and we watched Sam stride down the street.

"Not really, but nothing you can do to help. He was filling me on what you were talking about. You heard my answer."

"Do he tell you about the vision?"

He put his napkin over the now empty plate and finally focused his attention on me. "Yeah. I don't really want to know what you saw. I imagine it wasn't beer and beaches related."

That brought up a good memory, "Unfortunately no, and I don't think we have time to relive that night. Sam said he has visions now."

His face grew somber, "Did, does, who knows? I can't keep track anymore. He's...well, never mind." Sorrow touched his eyes and he rubbed his hand across his face like he was trying to gather his thoughts. "Look, if this Rising Dove of yours insists we have to do this ceremony, fine. I owe you from before and Sam and I brought this down on your family. I don't like it but it is what it is. Fair enough?"

"Fair, but Dean this is no go to church, say your prayers and leave an hour later. This is intense." He needed to fully understand what it meant, "It's, look, we believe the Spirits themselves can talk to us, through us, during all this. It's not something to walk into lightly." I wished I had never said those words, every part of his face stilled, there was no warmth, no life, no soul in him.

"You don't know what Sam and I have been dealing with for the past year so I'm going to let that comment slide. I'm not trying to offend you but your spirits have nothing on demons and I never walk into anything lightly, not anymore. Enjoy the pie, save some for me." Then he got up and followed after Sam, leaving me alone with my thoughts, which are not the best company to share pie with. I savored the food, it was really that good. I'm not a food critic or anything but when the potato salad you're eating makes you close your eyes and chew slowly just to get all the flavors you know there's something special about it. I lack the vocabulary to accurately describe the pie and I have a college education. I knew that the brothers would probably need some time to get their acts together, I had never seen them this intense or conflicted before. This trip was getting more and more challenging as it went, and I was thinking that my friend's being possessed was the worst thing that could happen.

Just as I was scraping the last bit of the slice of pie I had onto my fork, I saw them coming back up the street. I gathered up my dishes and the pie and went inside. The middle aged couple who ran the place were sitting behind the counter. The woman had short, curly, blonde hair, hazel eyes which seemed to always be smiling even if she wasn't and freckles on her pale face. She walked with a slight limp but still managed to always be bustling around behind the counter. The man that I assume was her husband was taller, with gentle green eyes, well worn but strong hands, tanned skin and mousy brown hair that was long enough to brush his collar. He always kept one eye on his wife and managed to always be right where she needed him to be if she needed to reach up for something or pick something up. It was obvious they cared for each other and were completely content being exactly where they were in life.

"Thanks for bringing your friends," the man said in resonant, deep baritone.

"You're welcome. Dean, the one with the shorter hair, is an absolute pie fanatic. The food was amazing too. I was in a rush when I came through earlier, I'm Running Coyote." I reached my hand over the counter to shake his.

"Lakota?" He asked. I was slightly surprised, the reservation was more than a day drive away and most white people don't bother to ask.

"Yes."

He paused and spoke slowly, "Wíyuškiŋyaŋ waŋčhíŋyaŋke lo"

I'm pretty sure my jaw hit the floor when he finished. "You speak Lakota!" He had even used the correct version of pleased to meet you.

"A little," he replied, a proud, shy smile spread across his face. "I'm Ralph."

"Wíyuškiŋyaŋ waŋčhíŋyaŋk Ralph." Woman don't use the "lo" at the end. "Where'd you learn to speak the language?"

His wife spoke up, "We've done some charity work on the Reservation, it's tragic what the Natives deal with. I'm Stella. We take a few weeks every year and work with charities like Habitat for Humanity or others. We found out through a blog we follow that your tribe suffers so much in the winters so we try to help and it's always fun to learn new languages."

I felt tears rising in my eyes, "Philámayaye," I had to thank them in my language I was too stunned to think in English. "Most white people don't even know we still exist."

Stella took my other hand and held it briefly, offering me some sort of comfort. "We didn't either, we're glad we found out." The three of us just looked at each other for a few minutes, I couldn't speak, I felt a few tears slide down my cheeks. Then Stella smiled, "Let me wrap the rest of that pie up for you. I'll put some ice packs in the bag so it doesn't get too warm in your car."

I handed her the pie and noticed they had some breakfast pastries for sale and took a minute to look around. The actual store part was only two small aisles of food and supplies but I noticed that what they sold was much higher end than most places. They had more fruit out, a wide variety of juices in the small cooler, coffee beans along with ground coffee but they didn't have just Folgers, there were a few fair trade brands as well. A few loaves of homemade bread, one was even gluten free and one was 12 grain sat in a small wicker basket and there was a much larger selection of healthy snack bars and not just candy.

"You have an interesting selection of items," I remarked.

"Long haul truckers sit all day and most truck stop food is atrocious for you," Ralph replied. "We figured we could do a little something to help them have a bit of goodness in their life instead of oil and sugar. Stella and I were worried that we'd lose business when the Flying J opened up down the way but turns out truckers actually like the variety. We live in that RV out back, it's solar powered and we drive to the RV park that's about 2 hours back when we have to drain our tanks. It works out pretty well. Our customers get a little healthier and we have everything we need."

"No wonder you two are so happy." They were living life on their terms, just like my people do. "I'll make a few phone calls, give it a few weeks and you'll probably be getting a lot more business. I have some friends that do a lot of driving and would have no problem going a few hours out of their way to eat here. Keep an eye out for classic cars like that Impala out there, though most won't be in such great shape. Those will probably be the people I am talking about." Once I told Bobby about this place it would quickly become a prime hunter stop. The only thing that attracts hunter more than hot women is good food.

"We'd appreciate that," Stella said as she handed me my now wrapped up pie.

I looked out the door and saw that the brothers were leaning against the cars, waiting for me. "Give me a second." I told Stella and Ralph. I opened the door, poked my head out "Hey guys, be right with you." The brothers nodded back at me.

I turned back to Stella and Ralph, "Wrap me up three of those apple turnovers, get me a pound of that ham in the case, two pounds of that potato salad, some of that sharp cheddar cheese." I grabbed a basket from by the door, picked up the 12 grain loaf, some of the fruit they had, a bag of the fair trade coffee, six of the snack bars and some delicious sounding actual mustard, not that crappy yellow stuff and a few other items.  
>"That should do it." They rang me up, I gathered all the bags.<p>

**"****We look forward to seeing you again." Ralph said, then he looked at Stella, she nodded and spoke slowly, "Iyuskinyan wancinyankelo"**

**"****It was nice to meet you too," I replied. "Thank you." They both smiled at me and I walked out.**

**"****You planning a picnic?" Dean asked. **

**"****I got dinner and breakfast." **

**Sam looked at me, smiling in response to the huge grin I had on my face, "The pie make you that happy?" **

**"****No, well yes. They speak Lakota!" I blurted out. I sent a silent thanks out to the Spirits for the lesson I had just been given. Kind people are everywhere, sometimes I forget that. **

**"****Really?" Sam replied, taking some of the bags out of my hand. "Isn't it a pretty hard language to learn?  
>"They know a few phrases." My words came out so fast I probably sounded like a kid who just came off a roller coaster. "I guess they've done some charity work to help my people and learned it there. Hold on." I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and called Bobby.<strong>

**"****Hello," his crusty old voice rang in my ear. **

**"****Bobby, it's Coyote. Grab a pen and write this down." **

**"****What's got you all riled up and excited? Get a new gun or a new car?" **

**"****Neither, found great food," I replied.**

**"****It must be good the way you sound, hold on." I heard rustling in the background, "Okay, shoot." **

**"****It's a little diner off of SD-79 about an hour or so north of the Flying J. It's called Take a Load Off Diner, owned by Stella and Ralph. It's faded blue. Healthy food, home made pie, potato salad and bbq that will blow your mind and they sell a bunch of other things. Spread the word and tell them pay cash, not fake cards. I'm going to keep on eye on the place so if anyone starts trouble they'll be answering to me. Got it?"**

**"****Who are these people to you?" Bobby knew I usually didn't stake claim or protect people that weren't my family. **

**"****People who care. Good people." **

**"****Got it. How are the boys?"  
>"Stuffed full of good food and smiling," I told him, which was sort of true. As I had been talking to Bobby both Sam and Dean had slowly been getting larger and larger grins on their faces. They knew, just like I did, that once hunters heard about this place Stella and Ralph would be seeing a rather large increase in their monthly income. <strong>

**"****I'll put the word out. Need anything else?" Bobby asked. **

**"****Nope, thanks." **

**"****Keep those boys out of trouble, Lord knows they can't seem to do it on their own." **

**I laughed, "Thanks for the Herculean task. I'll try. Catch ya later." **

**"****Bye." **

**I hung up, "Let's go." I told the brothers.**

**"****I'm getting tired of looking at the ass end of your car," Dean said, "And you've already driven enough today. Ride with me and let Sam drive." **

**He was still smiling but I saw the intent behind the suggestion, Dean wanted to talk. **

**"****I guess I could use a break. Sam?" **

**"****I get to drive and listen to the rest of your music. I'm good with that." I saw the look that passed between the two, they had already discussed this. I know when I'm being outmaneuvered and I was a little tired of driving. **

**"****Ok, she turns better than you would think so don't over steer." I tossed him the keys. **

**"****No problem." **

**I grabbed some of the juice that I had bought, packed the rest of the things in the back seat of my car and joined Dean in the Impala. **

**"****Head south for about an hour, you'll see the Flying J on the right," I told him, "I stayed there last night and held the room and got one for you guys." **

**He turned the key, Baby purred and he pulled out of the parking lot. **

**"****I have to give you this," I said, "I love my car but something about her purr always makes me smile." **

**Dean patted the dash and smiled, "Hear that Baby, speed ain't everything. You've got style." **

**I ran my hand across the dash in front of me, "Yes you do darlin'. You've got heart," I took a drink and looked at him. "So. Are we talking or are you pretending you don't want to talk for about fifteen minutes then going to ask a random question?" **


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

He started to glare at me, caught himself and smiled instead. "Guess that was a little transparent."

"You've changed some since last time I saw you but not that much. I don't think you've ever just come out and said to someone, "Can we talk?"

He thought about it for a minute, "Maybe once or twice, but you may be right on that. I want to know."

"About? Shaman, not mind reader."

"What you saw."

Instantly the mood in the car shifted, "Why?"

"We've hunted together, you don't scare easy. I saw your face when you got out of the car and even though you tried to hide it you were about to jump off the bed at the hotel. I need to know."

"You always were more observant than you let on. Just remember, it's a vision. Half the time they're symbolic, the other half they're literal and they are just glimpses of something. Not the whole story. Got it?" He nodded. I proceeded to fill him in. As I did his whole body stilled and tensed in a way that I had never seen before, not even on a hunt. Dean had always been one part smart ass, one part arrogant, one part deadly and one part expert, but on top of all of that was layered a sense that no matter what came for him he was in control and able to handle it. That part was gone, something had knocked him down hard and even though he had gotten back up he'd been wounded in ways that he couldn't hide or brush off. I finished and he drove silently for several minutes, then he turned the radio down.

"My new friend as you call it," he started in something close to a whisper, "Probably has something to do with hellhounds."

I didn't know much about demons until they came to the reservation but I had heard about hellhounds. I could have asked him why there was one attached to him but judging by how pale his face had become I decided to let him tell me in his own time.

"It's a long story and I really don't want to get into all of it, but Sam got killed. I brought him back. There was a cost. I paid it."

I kept quiet, he turned the volume back up. I started sorting through facts about hellhounds in my head. I knew they had to do with signing your soul away in exchange for something and they dragged you to hell. The lore said they usually gave a person ten years but with how the brothers had sounded at lunch I had a feeling those weren't the terms Dean was offered.

"How long?" I asked.

"A year," he replied.

"Who did you piss off?"

He shrugged, "Everyone I guess."

"How long do you have left?"

"About 11 months, this happened a few weeks before opening the gate to hell."

I was too stunned to really think straight and my brain defaulted to smart ass mode, "Ah I see, you thought if you stormed the place and defeated your version of the devil that you could get out of the contract?"

"Shut up!" he snarled.

"Why? Damn it Dean! What the hell?" I knew why he had done it, family is as important to him as it is to me. The problem was now that I knew how truly bad things were for him I was even more scared about the rest of what I had seen. Baby's engine revved, I got pushed back in my seat, he must have slammed his foot to the floor.

"I had no choice! It was Sam!"

His emotions were running away with him, that wasn't normal for Dean either. I reached across the car and gripped his leg once, then let go. "Ok, ok, calm down. Sorry I snapped."

I watched him take several deep breaths and color started returning to his knuckles and his face. The car slowed back down, and he turned his head to look at me, "No, I snapped. I shouldn't have. Sorry."

"Any idea of what the rest could mean?" I asked.

"Not really. Sam and I have gotten sucked into something big and I have no idea what it all means, neither does Bobby."

"If Bobby doesn't know you're really screwed."

That got a half of a grin back on his face. "Can't argue with you there."

I put my hand back on his leg, his head turned and our eyes met. There was a silent plea for help in his eyes, a plea that he knew was useless. Living in both worlds, mine, and everyone else's I had always wondered how afterlives work, every religion has different perspectives on it. The theory I had finally come to was that afterlives are just other realms we travel to, like a permanent astral projection. One of the view things most religions were consistent on were if you made a deal with an entity from another realm there was very little room to get out of it, especially if your soul was involved.

"Dean, I...," There were too many thoughts in my head and not enough of the right words.

"You're what? Sorry? You didn't do this."

How do you say goodbye to someone that is sitting right in front of you? When you know where they're headed is place of eternal torture and pain? Neither of us were big into emotional or physical displays of affection. I just shook my head and looked out the window but I left my hand where it was and he didn't pull away.

I'd met Dean at Bobby's. He was passing through and decided to stop to say hi. I think his Dad was off hunting, Sam was at school and Dean was on his own. He made some sort of smart ass remark to me, I called him out and put him in his place, he shook my hand and smiled in appreciation. Bobby cooked us dinner, the three of us stayed up way too late, drank way too much and I laughed so much my stomach was sore the next day. Dean and I hit it off and kept in touch. We didn't really date, mainly because hunters don't but we'd done the next closest thing. There was a time when we called each other about once or twice a month to see what cities we were in and try to meet somewhere along the way. That had gone on for about a year, then I started to fade out of hunting and we just sort of lost contact. Hunters tend to drift in and out of each others' lives on a regular basis. We never officially started dating and never officially broke up, we just enjoyed what we had when we could. Dean and I clicked over cars, weapons, messed up lives and our basic personalities just meshed well. He had woken up screaming from more than one nightmare about his Mom when we spent nights together and in those late night/pre-dawn hours had opened up and told me about his past. Not much, but enough. I had toyed once or twice with the idea of trying to make it something more but I knew it'd never work. Dean's emotionally unavailable because he's a hunter. He has emotions but entanglements lead to weak spots that can be used against you. I'm emotionally unavailable because I like being on my own. He'd introduced me to Sam one of those times, the three of us spent a week together hunting a vampire nest. Sam and I bonded over school, intellectual pursuits, college life and convoluted philosophical discussions. I joked several times with them that week that between the two of them I had the perfect man in my life. They never quite figured out how to take that comment.

I'd always wondered if Sam had told his brother about the two nights we spent together. They'd had some sort of a fight, Sam left and ended up in a town when I was getting ready to leave. I decided to stay a few extra days, late night conversations and alcohol had led to sex. Dean and I hooked up a few weeks later, he didn't say anything, neither did I. The nights with Sam had shown me more about the brothers' relationship than I would have thought possible. Even when Sam was furious with Dean he was worried about him and I knew Dean was the same way. They may have their problems but when bullets are flying, the undead are walking the earth and the world is coming to an end, Sam and Dean would back each other to the hilt even if five seconds earlier they'd been in a knock down, drag out fight over something.

Dean's hand crept over mine, "Hey, we've got demons to kill, people to save and you can watch me sweat for hours in a darkened tent, or so I hear. Life's not that bad yet," he said in a feeble attempt to get us past the awkward moment. I wanted to laugh or say something but my chest was too tight and I was trying to blink away tears.

"I can't watch, women usually aren't allowed inside sweat lodges."

"And you stand for that?" Dean knew me too well.

That made me grin, and the perfect response came to me,"There's a reason for it, apparently my people are advanced enough to realize that shedding my uterine wall lining once a month is plenty cleansing enough. It's you guys that need help attaining enlightenment, not us women."

He opened his mouth, closed it and a hint of red colored his cheeks, "Oh, um. Yeah I can see how that makes sense, I guess."

I rolled my eyes, "Dean Winchester, I have seen you stab vamps through the heart, get windigo guts all over you and behead more than one or two things and menstruation makes you queasy and embarrassed? Seriously? Men!" I used the hand he wasn't holding to lightly punch him in the shoulder.

He snickered, "I think I'll just steer clear of this conversation, I still remember the last time we had it."

"Spoilsport," I replied and gripped his hand tighter. We didn't speak much the rest of the drive to the hotel, there was no need.

By the time we got to the truck stop, the eight or ten hours I had been on the road and the emotional roller coaster was starting to take it's toll. I'd jerked awake once or twice before Dean pulled in.

"Are the rooms in your name or ours?" Dean asked.

"I still have my key and your room is in your name," I replied with a yawn. He squeezed my hand before he let it go.

"Wait here, I'll get the keys," he said and got out of the car.

Sam walked up along side my window, I rolled it down and he handed me my keys. "That is one sweet ride. Don't tell Dean I said so though."

I laughed, "Promise. Glad you enjoyed the trip."

Sam didn't ask but one of his eyebrows was raised.

"We talked, I know about the deal."

He sighed and looked in the direction Dean had gone, "I have to.."

I interrupted him. "Sam, I know what you're going to say and I'd be thinking the same thing but perhaps you should focus more on enjoying the time you have left instead of trying to accomplish the impossible. You guys love each other, not many people have what you have, even with their family members. Just my opinion."

He looked back at me and his face was so conflicted. Of the two Sam was the more idealistic, pure one in a way. Dean was stubborn not out of optimism but out of sheer contrariness, Sam was stubborn because he still had hope. He truly believed things could be changed. It's something you get when you're in college, I was the same way at one point; maybe still am, but it's been tempered a lot by reality. He wouldn't give up because he couldn't but at the same time he wanted to and for once in their lives just be two brothers. I motioned for him to back up, he did, I got out of the car and put my arms around him. He didn't exactly collapse but he held on pretty tight.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Thanks," he whispered back then let go. "We should probably grab our stuff."

"Yeah." I walked to my car, pulled out the food, grabbed my backpack and turned around just as Dean rejoined us.

"What room do you have?" He asked

"212."  
>"Cool," he replied with a grin, "We're right next to you. We can flip a coin over who gets to keep the pie in their room."<p>

"You wish, it's my favorite and you bought it for me, I keep it. No sneaking into my room to get a midnight snack either. I won't hesitate to shoot."

His brow furrowed and he fell into step next to me as we headed to the rooms, Sam was a step behind. "I remember telling you to save me a piece."

"I did, you get a piece. That's it. Sam gets one too. Rest is mine. You keep eating like this you'll get fat and out of shape. Getting dragged to hell a year from now is no excuse for letting yourself go Dean."

I heard Sam miss a step and almost fall down the stairs and Dean just stopped moving. For a second I thought I had pushed too far, then they both doubled over. Laughter reverberated through the stairwell and tears started streaming down their faces. The tension that had been building in my stomach and shoulders left as I joined in the laughter. As long they could laugh at themselves they'd make it one way or another. The rest of the short hike to the room went quick and was much more relaxed. We split the food that had to be kept cold up between both mini fridges, I told them what they had to save me because my plan was to get to my room and pass out as soon as possible. I wasn't hungry and my back and legs were aching from sitting all day.

I left them devouring happily devouring sandwiches, made it to my room and gratefully closed the door.

"Damn it, I'm not ready to know he's not out there anymore. Why the hell does this always have to happen to good people?" I knew, as always, that I'd never get an answer to that question. I went to my bags, grabbed out the bike shorts and tank top I slept in, my toothbrush and other essentials kit and headed into the bathroom to take a shower. "Well, don't you look like crap?" I told my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were tired looking and I looked drained. "Hunting is horrible for your complexion, that's one reason you quit remember?"

I got the water running and started to take my jewelry off. Two silver, twisted wire rings, one held a smoky quartz and the other a cat's eye, my long feathered earrings that had dream catchers spun into them, a long silver necklace with chunks of rough turquoise and coral worked into it and an armband that had a stylized coyote which was surrounded by peridot and amethyst. Above the coyote's head was a perfectly round piece of polished obsidian. My father had made it for me when he realized that I had the gifts of a Shaman, I'd had it resized once or twice but I'd worn it every day since he had given it to me. I worked out the braid in my hair and gave it a quick brushing out, took off my boots and socks, stripped out of the black t-shirt and jeans I was wearing, took my bra and panties off and stepped into shower water that had just hit the perfect temperature of slightly cooler than scathing hot. The water hit my back and instantly the road tension started to ease up. I took a much longer than usual shower, got out, toweled off, got dressed for bed and laid down in bed. I'm pretty sure I was half asleep even before I closed my eyes.

I was dreaming. Mist swirled around me, clearing just enough to let me see that I was standing on my sacred spot in the foothills several miles from my home. I had found this spot that held energies unlike any other place I had hiked to over the years, Rising Dove had told me that was the spot my Spirit was bound to and would go to in my dreams when the Spirits desired to talk to me or if I needed to process something. It was in a small cave that either the wind or a series of animals had carved out of a butte. The cave faced north, it overlooked a small riverbed that filled whenever it rained and the scent of prairie grass, sweet grass and sage always drifted through it. I had brought a small battery powered floodlight and found that several lines of quartz ran along the walls and the ground was littered with various stones of power, which seemed odd to me but Rising Dove said the cave was sacred and who was I to argue.

I sat down, I definitely had things that I needed to process. The wind picked up, whispering at me, murmurs of different voices speaking in several languages came to me. "Can't even get a moment of peace in my own dreams." I muttered.

"That's because Great Coyote knows how to annoy you." Rising Dove's voice needled me from somewhere.

"Teacher, how..?" Entering another's dreams is not something that is easily done.

His voice drifted and danced around the cave as he spoke, like he was gliding around me, "I have been waiting for you to sleep."

"You've been in a trance this whole time?" I was stunned.

"No, I do know how long of a drive you had. I've only been waiting a few hours. I wasn't just waiting for you, Brother Eagle needed to speak with me. Are they with you?"

"Yes. Teacher, they're..." I didn't even know how to start explaining what was going on with the brothers.

"They've met their first deaths, I know. Great Spirit told me." His voice was soothing, the scent of sage heightened and I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself.

"First deaths? They'll have more?"

"Many child, many," Compassion filled his voice, "Their God has given them a harsh road, a cruel one. It's filled with many choices and much power, they will be both powerless and powerful and they will have to decide how best to use power and allow powers greater than themselves to use them. The Spirits have messages for them, we started building the lodge already."

"Building? We have one already." There was a more or less permanent structure on the reservation for ceremonies.

"I was told to place it next to the house where White Hawk and Fox Who Sings are being kept. They are gagged and we blindfolded them. The things which possess them refused to be quiet. The Sweat will just have you, me and the ones you are bringing in it."

I couldn't speak or even think at first, "Me? But..."

"These men, they will not be willing to listen unless you are there. You are their guide in this as I will be yours. We will start soon after you arrive here."

"Teacher! I don't have time to prepare myself much less them for this."

A small dove drifted into my view, my teacher's voice finally had an origin, "Our Spirits, unlike their God, are adaptable. Drive safely." Then he was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

I woke up to the sound of someone trying to pick the lock on my door. After Rising Dove had left my dream the mist had enveloped me and I didn't remember anything after that. I glanced at the clock as I reached for my gun. I never was able to get used to sleeping with a gun under my pillow, I knew it's technically impossible but I have this fear of it going off in my sleep and blowing my brains out. My solution to the problem was to slide a gun just far enough in between the mattress and box spring that the grip stuck out so I could pull it when I needed to. The clock read 7am. I'd slept for about eleven hours. The door opened and my gun was trained where roughly center mass for most normal sized people would be.

"Did you forget how to knock?" I asked him, "I could have shot you."

"I see your instincts haven't grown soft," Dean said. He was wearing a sleek grey t-shirt, jeans, boots, that necklace he always wore and a leather band around his right wrist. Sam wasn't the only one who'd stayed in shape.

I put the gun down, "Testing me or just being a jackass?"

He leaned against the door frame, a smile sneaking onto his face, "Bit of both. Sam and I have coffee going and saved you one of those pastry things."

I pushed the covers back and got out of bed, an appreciative looked crossed his face and his eyes tracked the full length of my body. "Your instincts aren't the only thing still in shape."

"Not now," I snapped at him. I was in no mood for anything other than getting home and finishing this. I'd never led or even really been in a Sweat Ceremony. I had no idea what to do, what to say and looking at Dean with that look on his face while knowing what was in store for him and Sam was just too much for me to handle first thing in the morning.

The appreciative look was replaced by something much more somber. "What happened? You're upset."

"Let me get dressed and I'll come over. Give me a few minutes to wake up, please."

"No problem. See you in a few." He turned and walked away, closing the door behind him.

"Shit!" I snarled and punched the wall, I gauged it so it didn't do much damage but the impact felt good. I shook my hand out while I used the other one to dig through my bag and grabbed my clothes and walked into the bathroom to get dressed. "Stupid, goddamn, fucking, Spirits and Gods. What the hell?!" I personally thought I was in no way suited to be a Shaman, I was too impatient, quick to anger and willing to fight. The things that made me a good hunter, weren't so great for receiving cryptic messages from the divine.

When I'd left for school I had been more patient but not my much. I was oddly incredibly detail oriented and hyper at the same time. Hours could fly by while I was engrossed in doing intricate engineering projects but I couldn't sit still for five minutes and engage in small talk. My ability to hyperfocus enabled me to graduate from college with high honors and land a job almost a year before I had my degree. What I made in the first year allowed me to save enough cash to pay outright for my car. I had grown up in what most people would consider abject poverty so I was used to living on nothing. I still freelanced even while I was hunting and kept doing it after I moved back home. I'd earned that degree and I intended to get everything I could out of it. There was a faction on the Reservation that despised me for it, claimed I had "gone white" and wasn't part of the tribe anymore. They claimed that right up until I had knocked a few of them out in fights, after that they didn't say it but I knew they still felt it. This whole situation was not going to make things any better.

I switched out of the tank and bike shorts, pulled my bra on followed by a hip length, sleeveless tunic top. It was buckskin beige in color and intricately beaded with traditional Lakota designs, the loose jeans I wore also had bead work on the front that ran the full length of the leg. Instead of the necklace I had on the day before, I clasped a turquoise, jet and silver choker around my neck, the feathered earrings and armband went back on. My boots were packed away because I was shoving my feet into knee high moccasins. When I left home I tended to dress less Native, mainly so I wouldn't attract attention or stand out in people's minds. Hunters don't want to be memorable. I hadn't really planned to go full Native until I was back home but something told me I was going to have to make an impact on someone before I got there. I knew it wasn't Sam or Dean and that left people from my tribe who had problems with me. If they were going to attack my right to do whatever it was the Spirits had planned for me I was going to remind them of just who I was.

"Braids are going to take too long." I grumbled as I packed my stuff up so I ran the brush through my hair a few times and pulled it into a pony tail, the end of which brushed against my ass. I often contemplated hacking my hair off but I could never bring myself to do it. I gathered everything up, walked the three steps to the brothers room and, out of spite more than anything, shoved their door open full force causing it to slam into the wall. I was rewarded with two guns pointed at me and Dean half way out of his chair. "Sucks doesn't it?" I asked.

"You're in a mood." Sam pointed out.

Dean shook his head and handed me some coffee. "Do you want whiskey in that or did slamming the door open get your jitters out?"

"Just coffee thanks."

Sam tilted his head, put his gun down and took a good look at me, "Who do you need to impress? You look good by the way."

"Thanks," I sat and took a deep breath. "Once we finish eating, we need to pack and top the car's tanks off before we leave. As soon as we cross over onto the Res I'm punching it and you need to keep up. Shut up and listen," I was too rattled, "Sorry."

They waited and said nothing.

"Look, Rising Dove talked to me. We are doing the Sweat Ceremony as soon as we get there and I will be in the lodge with you." Sam opened his mouth, I held up my hand. "It will just be you two, him and me. They are building a lodge right next to where the demons are, they've gagged and blindfolded them, I guess the demons wouldn't shut up. I need to explain some thing's to you." I launched into the issues with myself and other's at home, how I was viewed and the fact that Rising Dove already knew about their issues. I didn't call them first deaths because they didn't need to hear that. "You have to promise me something and I am deadly serious. Once we are on the Reservation you follow my lead on everything and you do exactly what Rising Dove says without question. I don't care if he tells you to piss into the wind while standing on one foot. No smart ass remarks or any sign of disrespect. As long as you are on the Reservation you treat him like he was your father. Understand?"

They looked at each other, their faces somber. "Are you done?" Dean asked in a quiet voice.

"Yes."

"Two questions," he continued, "What aren't you telling us and I don't quite understand why we have to be so cautious?"

"Look, I know they whitewash Native American history in schools so let me put it this way. I am bringing two tainted white men to the Reservation to take place in a Sacred Ceremony to cleanse two tribe members from a monster that the white men released in the first place. Not only that but because of what you brought to our door now a woman who left the Reservation and came back only to be pushed to the head of the line of becoming Shaman will be leading the Ceremony and is the person who's bringing the tainted white men to begin with. Think about it." I let them ponder that while I drank my coffee which was ambrosia in a cup and ate the pastry which was still perfectly flaky and delicious. "As to your second question, what I'm not telling you, you don't need to know." That was a flat out lie but I knew that telling people too much about their future never ended well. I watched gears turning and connections being made by both of them, Sam spoke first.

"I understand. We'll do what you say."

Dean frowned. "But.."

"No Dean, no buts, either do it my way or I'll get someone else to do this. This is my world, you have to follow my rules and trust me. Please." I didn't want to get anyone else and I knew he felt responsible for the situation and wanted to clean up his mess.

"Fine. Your way." He was still frowning but at least he'd agreed to it.  
>I finished up the coffee and pastry while the brothers packed. We checked out, filled up the cars, just as I was getting into my car I heard a whisper and looked up. I spotted a hawk up in the sky across the street. It was spiraling faster and faster, then it dove down, extended it's talons and a struggling long bodied rodent was scooped off the ground. It looked like a weasel which aren't all that common in South Dakota. Crap, omen.<p>

"Dean, give Sam the keys, you're riding with me. Sam said you tricked Baby out, what's she running now?"

Dean shot Sam a slight glare, Sam shrugged, "350 with a few other perks."

"Good, she can keep up. Let's go." Dean tossed Sam the keys and got in the passenger side.

"Thank you," I said after I shut my door.

"Don't thank me, I'm just withholding comments until after we're done." He was not happy, Dean hates going into things blind.

"I'll sit still, shut up and let you rip into me at that point, promise."

He snorted, "Not likely, but I appreciate the thought."

We pulled out of the parking lot and headed out. The first hour of the drive neither of us spoke. I wasn't in the mood to talk, neither was he. We turned off the main freeway and a few miles after that the sign for the Reservation stood out against the flat plains all around us.

I took a deep breath, pushed the gas pedal down and shifted through my last two gears into sixth and Baby kept up. We were doing about 140 and I still had plenty of room on my tachometer. "Wow, you did trick her out."

That smug, proud grin he reserved only for her flashed across his features. "I know."

"Nice."

"Thanks, maybe this thing isn't such a piece of crap after all," he said in a magnanimous tone.

"Really? You like it?" I asked in the most girlish tone I could manage.

"It's not bad, for a chick car."

I pushed the pedal down the rest of the way, the engine screamed, shoving him back in his seat. "A chick car?" I slowed back down after making my point.

"Ok, maybe not bad for a hunter chick's car."

"That's better."

He chuckled, then frowned. "Look."

I look forward again, "Seriously? Damn it." There were two vehicles blocking the street, one was a beat-up 90s Toyota Tacoma that had been red at some point and the other was a crappy ass 80s Ford Ranger, it had recently been painted blue. I knew who's they were and why they were there.

"Friends of yours?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, just like those demons are friends of yours." That hawk was warning me, the driver of the Tacoma was about as underhanded and weaselly as you could get. Yes, weasels have some great traits but apparently the Spirits knew I had spent a lot of time among white people, and weasels in that world don't have such a great reputation. Now I knew why I had told Dean to ride with me, Sam would follow Dean's lead and Dean was following mine. If Sam had been with me Dean would have gotten out of the Impala as soon as we stopped. By keeping Dean in my car Sam would stay put too.

"The one standing slightly forward, I call him Dan, as far as I'm concerned he's dishonored his Native name. I've also been overheard calling him Runs Like Hell, but that's not important."

Dean flat out laughed, "And you wonder why people dislike you."

I glared at him as I slowed down, "I call him that because he talks a big game but he usually doesn't back it. He's not the problem. The tall one on the right, blue shirt. That's Dancing Badger, don't let the name fool you. Badger's are short tempered, mean, territorial and tough, he's hated me since I got back but he's been biding his time. The other two are his minions, fairly harmless."

Dean went from laughing to deadly quiet, "He's calling you out."

"Yeah. Glove compartment, the knife."

Dean nodded, pulled open the glove box and handed me the six inch, double edged dagger that rested on top of my .45, "Gun?" He asked.

"No."

"They have guns."

"Trust me. Stay in the car, don't get out, don't help. Got it," I ordered as I took the knife from his hand and placed it in my lap.

"There's four of them," he pointed out.

"Only one that matters. I take out Badger, the rest crumble."

Dean's face went blank and he nodded.

I pulled over, Sam followed in Baby. Dean rolled down his window and held his hand up, letting Sam know to stay put. "We're going to have a long talk at the end of this," he reminded me.

"I know." I pushed my door open, tucked the knife into the back of my jeans and got out.

Dan spoke, or rather slurred first, he was already half drunk. "We aren't letting you past."

I ignored him and looked at Dancing Badger, "So? Is this it? I don't have time for this and neither do White Hawk and Fox Who Sings."

He spat on the ground and took a step forward. "You don't belong here, neither does that trash you're bringing with you. We can heal White Hawk and Fox Who Sings. We don't need them or you."

I started softly chanting, calling on Coyote, Hawk and Mouse. People underestimate mice, they have incredibly sharp senses, move fast and escape plenty of ambushes. Rising Dove had me hunt mice once and pretend I was an actual coyote. Those little guys are hard to catch. Badger hovered around my height but he had a lot more muscle than I did, he, unlike the other three, still viewed himself as a warrior and trained as one. He was also enraged that I had been welcomed with open arms by Rising Dove, Badger wanted power. Rising Dove knew it and that's why he refused to teach him.

The wind stirred around me, my eyes seemed slightly sharper, I could just make out the beat of his blood pulsing through the arteries in his neck. The shuffling of their feet echoed in my ears, I stopped and took a breath, pushing my anger down and focused on Badger. He was wearing torn up, frayed jeans, work boots, an old blue t-shirt and a .38 clipped to his waist. His hair was clipped to shoulder length and tied back and his black eyes were locked onto me.

"I don't have to justify my actions to you, you know that. So if you don't have anything better to do than attempt to insult me move out of the way."

"You uppity bitch," Dan snarled and took a drunken swing at me. I stepped back, caught his arm, twisted it, wrist locked him with one hand, put my other on his head and shoved him towards the ground as I drove my knee into his face. He screamed and blood started pooling on the ground underneath him. I didn't let his arm go.

"I'm bleeding!"

"Really? Crap, don't get that on my shoes." I slammed my knee into his stomach and dropped his arm. He landed on the ground gasping for air. "Who's next?


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Dancing Badger moved forward, unclipped his gun, set it on the dirt and started moving to my left. He was trying to get the sun in my eyes. I took one step and struck out with my left leg, forcing him to move to the right to avoid getting hit. He blocked but still took a step to the right, I didn't let up. I took a chance, once my left leg reset I spun on it and aimed a round kick at his face. It was a bad choice. He ducked, came up, step forward and launched a straight jab at my face. My head snapped back and I tasted blood.

His minions laughed, that was a bad choice on their part. It's not the first time I'd been hit in the face, Badger may be strong but he's not a vampire.

Badger apparently thought that would get his point across, "You have no place here."

I smiled and responded with a right hook aimed low, he blocked that which was fine by me because my left cross was what I had planned to hit him with. Feeling his jaws rattle under my fist was very rewarding. He reeled and stepped back. I planted my left foot, spun and possibly dislocated his knee when my right heel landed on it. He howled and almost dropped but caught himself and barely stayed standing. He took a couple of deep breaths and I watched him, his face was distorted more in rage than pain, he reached behind him and pulled his knife.

"Dancing Badger," I said, "we were having a fun little fight, you pull that it's going to get a lot more serious. Is this a step you really want to take?"

He screamed and brought his arm up and across, I hopped out of the way and drew my own blade. Badger was holding his knife like you see in movies, the point out and held in front of him. It looks intimidating but it's a limiting stance. I had purposely bought a knife with a longer hilt so I could hold it with the blade laying across my forearm and not get sliced. Badger's way got you extra reach, mine gave me more options and allowed me to use it to defend not just attack.

"Have it your way." I love knife fighting. I waited.

He lunged at me again blade in his right hand, point aimed at my chest, my knife was in my right hand, I twisted out of the way and brought my blade down along his forearm. Normally I'd follow that up with a stab to his gut but I really didn't want to kill him. He repaid my generosity by elbowing me in the throat, I couldn't breathe but I kept moving. I was already spinning away from him following the slice across his forearm, I used the extra momentum he had been kind enough to give me with his elbow and completed the spin, crouched down and sliced my blade across the calf of the same leg I'd already injured. I'd gone easy on his forearm but I made sure I cut deep into his calf. He lost his balance, fell, rolled and tried to get back up.

I was still trying to suck in air but I couldn't let up. I stepped on the knee I'd already hit, pushed down and twisted my foot, he screamed in pain and started panting. My other foot pinned his knife arm to the ground and I stood there. I'm not an idiot, he still had one good arm and I wasn't about to kneel down to place my knife on his neck.

"Enough?" I croaked when my throat started working again.

"Coyote!" I heard Dean's voice at the same time I heard scuffling behind me. Dan had crawled away while Badger and I were having fun. I hadn't forgotten him but I had lost track of him in the last exchange, I twisted to the right more out of instinct then actually knowing where he and felt a blade cut into my just above my left hip.

"Bastard!" I hissed, my arm was already moving and it laid a four inch long, deep slice across Dan's chest. He had aimed for my unarmed side thinking it'd be safer. Idiot, the only reason I didn't lay his throat wide open was because I caught myself at the last minute and shifted my aim. He stumbled and fell onto Badger's face, whimpering in pain. I looked at the two others, Hunting Snake and Sitting Bear. "Are you two here to watch or fight?"

"Observers," Sitting Bear answered, "Dancing Badger said he would prove his worth. We were to report what happened."

"Fine, this one," I kicked Dan in the ribs, he grunted. "Will probably need stitches. You may want to see to that. Badger, done?" Silence greeted my question. I pushed Dan off of Badger who's face was covered with Dan's blood. He glared up at me.

"Dean." I said and held my hand out but didn't look away from Badger's face. I heard the car door open, Dean's measured stride come towards me and the familiar weight of my gun was in my hand. Dean walked away, I cocked it then gave Badger a very good view of the barrel of a .45. "Done?"

He nodded.

"Speak," I growled.  
>His mouth twisted in disgust, "Done."<p>

I still didn't look away from those rage filled, black eyes. "You two, observe that and report it to whoever you want. I'm done with proving myself. Next person that starts something with me I will not be as nice to. Got it?"

"Yes," They both replied.

"Pull the trucks out of the way, I need to get going." I backed away slowly from Badger, keeping an eye on him. I heard Dean push open my door, I got it and looked at him. Every muscle in his face and body was tensed, ready to strike. I could tell his adrenaline was pumping and his hand was wrapped a old Colt long barreled revolver that had a five pointed star inside a circle engraved on the handle.

"That's new."

He slowly turned his head to look at me and for a second I thought I'd be safer outside of the car than in it, "Don't ever expect me to do that again." His tone wasn't a growl, it was something much darker and more dangerous.

"I..."

"Shut up and drive," he ordered. "Your face is going to swell, here." Then he handed me one of the ice packs that Stella had given us for the food.

"Thanks," I took it from him and he looked out the window.

The trucks pulled out of the way and I started driving again.

After a few miles he had calmed down, "Pull over, let me look at your side. You're bleeding on your seat."

"Oh, crap." I hadn't forgotten about the cut but the ferocity of his reaction when I had gotten back into the car had pushed me to act, not tend to my wounds. I did as he said, "There's a first aid kit in the trunk," I told him.

"Fine, I'll get it." We pulled over and got out.

Sam pulled up behind us, got out and looked just as pissed off at me as Dean had been. "What were you thinking?" He snarled as he walked up to me.

"Dean already yelled at me."

"Like I care. There were four of them! Jesus! Are you ok?" He pulled my shirt up to check the slice in my side. The gash was only about two inches long and not very deep, Dan was too drunk to do it right apparently.  
>"Hey!" I objected.<p>

"Shut up, I've stitched you up before. Dean, get some butterfly bandages if she has any. I don't think she'll need stitches."

"Yeah she has some, move," Dean replied. He had my bottle of hydrogen peroxide, gauze and some butterfly bandages with him. Although he was angry, his hands were gentle but the amount of hydrogen peroxide he put on the gauze wasn't.

"Holy shit!" I hissed.

"Quit whining," he admonished, "Be happy it's not cheap whiskey. That hurts worse." He held the gauze in place for a minute, peeled it off, got fresh gauze and applied another helping of disinfectant to that, wiped the wound down then bandaged it. "Good luck getting blood out of those leather seats."

"Thanks," I muttered. I walked to my trunk and pulled out a bottle of club soda. "I think ahead." I pulled off my shirt and soaked the bloody areas with it, grabbed some towels from the back, wiped the blood off the seat, dumped some hydrogen peroxide on the seat, let it sit, then wiped that up too.

"Huh," Dean said, "Disinfects and cleans leather. Handy stuff."

"You're welcome," I told him, pulled another shirt on and got back in the car. "Let's go."

The rest of the trip was uneventful. Most people would relax pulling into their home city, I got grew even more nervous. The fight with Badger was easy compared to what was coming up. Dean stayed quiet and tense. The conversation he had promised me that we'd have after all this over was probably going to be a long one.

Once I started passing houses I slowed down to a much safer speed, kids have a habit of running into streets. As the scenery changed and we got farther onto the Reservation, Dean's face grew pensive. We passed several dilapidated houses that in most cities would have been condemned and torn down, but here upwards to fifteen people crowded into them. There were some newer trailers and houses mixed in but it was fairly obvious that luxury living and gated communities did not abound out here. The houses were spread far apart, kids and adults wearing old, faded clothes were washing clothes in buckets, grilling over open pits and carrying large bundles of supplies back and forth.  
>"Is all of it like this here?" He asked.<p>

"Pretty much, there's some more newer construction closer into town but the average high end income here is about $5000 a year or so. Most winters people run out of money for propane to heat their houses and we have to raise money from outside sources." The Reservation has an odd feel to it, there's this sense of both depression and hopelessness but somehow people are still proud of who they are. Some of them are anyway.

"Why don't people leave, like you did?"

"This is our home Dean, our family. I don't know if I can explain it to you. We're a defeated people who refuse to die out. Not all tribes are this bad off but there's not a lot of point to putting casinos out in the middle of nowhere South Dakota." I paused. "Hunting is a horrible lifestyle, you have no home, no real friends, you're constantly putting yourself in harm's way, you don't get paid and rarely get any gratitude. Yet you keep doing it. Same theory applies here. Hunting is who you are, who your family was. You couldn't quit it if you tried. We're Lakota, that's who we are."

He looked at me, regret simmering in his eyes, "Sam got out. I pulled him back in. I should have left him alone."

"Why'd you pull him back in?"

"Dad needed help." He looked out of the window again.

"Did you guys help him? Where is he anyway?" I asked.

Dean didn't speak.

"Oh. God, I'm sorry." I saw tears welling up in his eyes but he brushed them away.

"He made the same deal I did, to save me," he started to explain.

"How long did he get?"

"About five minutes," he answered and lapsed into silence again.

I placed my hand over his, "Dean, if Sam knew something had happened to you while he was happy at school it would tear him up inside. He could have said no, you didn't make him do anything."

He pulled his hand away, "Maybe."

I let the subject drop. I knew him well enough to know that he would always blame himself for anything that went wrong, even if there was nothing he could have done to stop it.

We had reached the main part of town and I could sense agitated mood of the people there. People were hurrying to finish the lodge and anxious about Dean and Sam being there. I pulled up to Rising Dove's small, single wide trailer. My head was throbbing from Badger's hit and the cut in my side wasn't helping. I had no idea how I was going to get through such an intense ceremony feeling like this.

"This is Rising Dove's place," I told Dean. When I stood up to get out of the car I swayed as the position shift registered with the pressure in my head.

"Hey, take it easy," Dean said.

"Can't."

Sam joined us and wrapped his arm around my waist, "I'm sure falling over will really help your reputation right now. Breathe."

My head settled down and I nodded a silent thanks to Sam. He let me go and they followed me up the three stairs to the porch. I entered without knocking, no one could miss the sound of both my car and Baby pulling up to their house.

I was greeted with a warm cup of tea before I even made it to Rising Dove's living room. "Here. It will help your head," he said. He had met me in the candlelit front entryway, the smell of burning sage draped the room and instantly my nerves settled down. Several woven wall hangings with symbols of my people covered the walls, he decorated more for a sense of texture and story telling than an overwhelming theme or design. I took a few deep breaths and allowing the calming energy of his house to works it way up my legs and into my soul.

"Thank you," I said then took a few steps further in so Sam and Dean could join us inside. Once they closed the door I looked at Rising Dove and introduced the Winchesters. "Teacher, this is Sam and Dean Winchester. Guys, Rising Dove, my Teacher."

I tend to forget just how tall the brothers are until I see them next to other people, Rising Dove stands about four inches shorter than I do but Sam dwarfed him and Dean's slightly bulkier frame made up for any apparent lack of height because of standing next to Sam. My Teacher's long, greying hair was loose, which was odd and it drifted around his shoulders, covering much of the elaborate bead work that was on his shirt. He had delicate features for a Native and had somehow escaped that craggy, leathery, wind beaten look you see in photos of older Natives. Maybe it's because he doesn't spend all day in the sun. He had just turned sixty five this last year but nothing in his bearing gave away his age. His back was straight, eyes sharp and alert and he could outrun a great many of the younger men in town. When he wasn't running ceremonies, he taught at the school, helped organize tribal politics, wrote books and lectured about the history of Native Americans.

I gave Dean an extra hard look. The fact that Rising Dove had handed me tea and made the comment about my head hadn't escaped Dean, who would probably assume that Rising Dove had known what was going to happen. I didn't need him to already start challenging my Teacher. His face stayed blank, oh hell.

Sam was the first to reach out to shake my teacher's hand.

Rising Dove returned the gesture, "Thank you for coming," he said, "I know you traveled a long way."

Dean just stood there, "Did you know those guys were going to take a shot at her?"

"Dean!" Sam and I snapped at the exact same moment.

"It's fine," my teacher replied. "I saw Running Badger and the others head out and assumed that was his intention."

Dean's shoulders tensed and his right hand balled into a fist, "You didn't see fit to try to stop them or call her and let her know?"

I stepped in between the two, Dean's ice cold green eyes pierced mine and I swore I could hear his teeth grinding, "Stop this right now," I warned, my wintry tone matching the temperature of his gaze.

Rising Dove's hand lightly touched my shoulder, "Running Coyote, sister, daughter, step down."

I moved to the side but I didn't take my eyes off Dean. Sam hadn't overtly moved but had shifted slightly behind my teacher, ready to back his brother if needed.

"Dean, you are the eldest in your family correct?" My teacher continued. Dean nodded. "You want to protect those you care for, that is noble and honorable. However, if I protect her, others will continue to doubt her skills and her right to be here. This was not the first battle she has fought and it won't be the last. I would not make her lose respect in front of others by fighting her battles for her. She may one day lead this tribe, she can't do that if she has not earned their respect. Besides, if I had stopped Dancing Badger he would have merely waited for another opportunity and she would not have had the benefit of you and your brother being there."

Dean wanted to keep pushing, it was written all over his face but he also knew my Teacher's logic was right. The brothers had led a rough enough life that he understood how fighting for respect worked. His eyes shifted back to me, some of the frozen wasteland look left them, he unclenched his fist, slowly extended his hand out and the two men shook hands.

"I told her we'd do this her way and I don't go back on my word," he told my Teacher. That list of things we'd be talking about was getting a lot longer and there would probably be some screaming involved. Dean switched to business topics, "How are the two of your people who are possessed holding up?"

Rising Dove turned his head slightly, acknowledging Sam's presence behind him, Sam stepped out from behind Rising Dove and the tension left the room. Rising Dove turned and gestured down the hall towards the living room. I led the way, Sam and Dean followed and he feel in step behind them.

"They are alive, they have not eaten or had much to drink since they were taken over. We've never seen that before."

"Once demons take a person over they can pretty much ignore biology," Sam said. "They seem to be able to keep a body going just using their energy or feeding off the soul of the person to push the body far past what it should be able to do. We're not quite sure which it is."

We reached Rising Dove's living room, he had two longer couches, one loveseat and a recliner comfortable close to each other. They were all different colors but prevailing shade was beige although he brightened them up with different colored pillows strewn across them. A large wall hanging of a Thunderbird, the symbolic Native bird, not the car, was on the north wall. There were two small side tables with books and papers scattered across them and he had cleaned off the usually cluttered coffee table since he knew he'd have guests. The floor was covered with various carpets, the place just felt homey, welcoming and comforting. It was early spring and the sliding glass door gave you a view of his herb and vegetable garden that always seemed to survive the harshest weather. It was a mild day so the door was opened a few inches allowing a deliciously scented breeze to waft through the room.

We all sat down, Sam taking the recliner which faced the glass door.

"Water?"

Sam jumped at the sound of a voice behind him. Everyone that he thought was in the house was sitting in front of him.

"Hey Cougar," I said, "Thanks, I'll take some with lemon in it. Get some for them too please."

Sam turned his head and had to raise it a lot higher than he was used to doing to meet Cougar's eyes. Cougar Kills Bear is maybe an inch shorter than Sam, two inches wider in the shoulders and as stealthy as his namesake. We've also been friends since we could walk.

"Got it," Cougar said, the floor didn't squeak once as he walked away. Dean and Sam glanced at each other, then looked at me.

"That's an actual friend of mine," I told them.

"Good thing too," Sam replied.

Dean shook his head and looked at my Teacher. "So this Ceremony. You still think we have to do this? We could get your people free of the demons in about thirty minutes without it."

My Teacher looked at the brothers. He was sitting on the corner of the couch and had both of them in his field of view. When I say looked he wasn't just glancing at them or meeting their eyes. I can't even call his gaze piercing. It's this thing he does where he looks at you, around you, through you and above you all at the same time. The few times he has done it to me it always feels like the world is spinning and I'm about to fall over.

The brothers tried to hide it, at first they just shifted positions, then Sam's eyes started to widen in fear and surprise, his hands tightened on the arms of the recliner and the wood beneath his hands started to creak from the force of his grip. Dean started to shake, he wrapped his arms around his stomach and leaned forward. I thought he was about to vomit until I heard him sucking in deep breaths. My Teacher closed his eyes and chanted something so softly I couldn't make it out. When he finished chanting Sam's death hold on the arms of the chair relaxed and Dean stopped gasping for air and slowly sat back up.

"Yes, I do," my Teacher answered.

"What did you do?" Sam asked, eyes still wide. "We've been hit by witches, demons, vampires and plenty of other things and nothing has ever felt like that."

"I touched your Warrior Spirit," My Teacher replied, I had never seen such compassion and sadness on his face. He looked at Dean, "That thing that you have bound yourself to didn't appreciate it much. It was pulling to get away, that's what you felt."

"You can make hellhounds run away?" Dean asked, a wild hope in his eyes.

"No, what is attached to you is merely a shade of the true thing. It's a marker, so the actual hound can find you when the time comes."

The hope in Dean's eyes died. "Oh."

"Sorry, brother Dean, I truly am." Their eyes met and I felt the intensity of understanding between my Teacher and Dean. Natives have been stuck in a version of hell since white people first set foot on this continent.

"What does that mean? Touching our Warrior Spirit?" Sam, ever the curious one, asked.

"It would take much longer than we have to explain. Perhaps the best way to phrase it was that I touched your chi, or soul. Those terms have more meaning for most people."

Cougar came back and handed out the water.

"Why?" Sam asked as he took his glass.

"So you can begin to understand," Rising Dove said.

"When he touches your Warrior Spirit," Cougar added in a voice as quiet as his footsteps, "He is pulling all versions of you, the present, past and future, into being at one time. At first it's overwhelming, all those parts of you, especially if you had no idea that they existed at all. Then, when you learn to listen, then you understand that you never start and never end. You are part of everything."

Rising Dove smiled gently and chuckled, "He should be the Shaman, not me. I can never phrase things as eloquently as Cougar can."

Cougar smiled back, "I just sum up what you say in your books."

"Yes, but what it takes me five hundred pages to say you do it in three sentences."

"It's a good thing white people like to pay for five hundred page books or you'd be in trouble," Cougar replied then walked out.

I'd been drinking my tea while they talked and the throbbing in my head was starting to lessen already, Rising Dove knew his herbs. The brothers glanced at each other and I saw something in Dean, a side I doubt he'd ever shown before. He was at a loss not only for words but for understanding and he was slowly realizing that he wasn't in control of this situation. What surprised me was the fact that he seemed almost willing to accept that. Sam gave him a slight nod, he's eyes widened slightly, then he looked away.

He took off his jacket, laid it on the couch next to him and looked back up at my Teacher, "What do we have to do?"

I almost choked on my tea.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Rising Dove looked at me, "Perhaps you should clean up and center yourself while I get them as ready as they can be for this. You can use my shower and Sacred Space if you wish. I have some robes or loose pants you can wear for the Sweat if you don't want to go home first. They're hanging in the closet in the spare room."

I know a hint when I hear one, "Yeah that's probably a good idea. Thanks." I finished the rest of my tea, took my water with me and went outside to grab my bath stuff from my car. When I walked past the living room again the three of them had gone outside and were sitting on the porch. The door was closed so I couldn't hear what was being said. From what I could see Sam and Dean were listening pretty intently to whatever it was my Teacher was saying.

Once I got to the bathroom and turned on the water I heaved a sigh of relief. One almost impossible task down, one more to go. I didn't take a long shower, I just used the water pouring on me as a way to visualize my stress, nerves and pain washing down the drain. Since the men were outside and Cougar had seen me in various stages of undress numerous times thanks to playing together when we grew up, I stepped out of the bathroom with a larger towel wrapped around me and only my underwear on. Besides the spare bedroom where his Sacred Space was only took three steps from the bathroom to get to. Once I got inside the room, I closed the door behind me. There were several pairs of pants in the closet but I was drawn to a white, linen pair that had a drawstring and wide cuffs and a white long sleeved shirt that had no buttons, just rope ties to secure it. I dressed, sat down and shut my eyes.  
>Rising Dove had prepared this space for me, it felt slightly different than usual. I opened my senses up, released the holds I usually keep on my abilities and let the Spirits in the room make themselves known. I was expecting Coyote but I found Fox, Crow, Lizard and Mole. Rising Dove and the Spirits were giving me hints about what to expect and the strength to do it. Fox is cunning and wise, Crow brings messages, guards against fear and keeps the law, Lizard is all about dreaming and Mole, well, mole is all about earth energies and seeing in situations where others cannot. I had a feeling I was going to be a channel, that Rising Dove was going to open the way and set the stage but I was going to be the one that the Spirits used to reach out to Sam and Dean. Oh fun. I spiraled deeper and deeper into myself, trying to unmake who I was in order to open myself to the Spirits. My limbs grew both heavier and lighter, my mind quieted, my breathing evened out. I felt something crawl across my left hand and opened my eyes just enough, Lizard was there. Sleek bodied, long tailed, splayed little toes and the color of the dark plains sand he sat there and looked up at me. He bobbed his head twice and licked the knuckle of my hand, "Hello brother," I whispered. The energies of the room shifted and spiraled, the words of a chant that I had never said or heard ran through my mind, "Thank you," I whispered again, Lizard bobbed his head twice more and skittered away.<p>

A cold nose and light breath touched my right ear, phantom fur rubbed against my cheek. "Hello sister," I knew it was Fox without even looking. She bumped her nose against my throat twice times, another phrase and rhythm entered my mind, "Thank you." She tilted her head to the right, then the left, gave a soft yip, bounded over me and disappeared.

Something small, heavy bodied and shuffling slowly clambered it's way up my left arm and rested on my shoulder. Mole, "Hello brother," he shuffled, snuffled and tapped his long pointed nose three times against the center of my chest, directly in between my breasts. Yet more words, intonations and sounds raced through my mind. Like puzzle pieces what I had been gifted with started to link together. "Thank you." He slid down my arm and snuffled and shuffled away.

I felt a breeze above me, a rustle of wings and then a huge crow landed directly in front of me. I bowed my head. "Brother Crow." He cawed and hopped closer, small black eyes intently watching me. I raised my head back, slowly he leaned forward and pecked lightly between my eyes twice, then hopped onto my lap and pecked twice on the top of my head. The rest of the pieces of the chant clicked into place and I began humming the slightly discordant, nasal melody I would be singing in the Sweat. Crow hopped off of me, nodded once, I nodded back and started singing the words. He started swaying and rocking back and forth in time to what I singing, I went through it four times. Crow cawed once, beat his wings and faded into the shadows.

I was ready. There was a a soft knock at the door. I opened it, Cougar was there, waiting.

"The others are already at the Lodge. I was told to bring you."

I nodded and kept humming. We walked to his truck and he drove. I hummed the whole way, the words and the melody kept insisting upon it.

We got to the lodge, it was a short, squat, dome shaped building that was covered with canvas and tarps. About twenty feet from the front door the fire pit had been dug, the rocks were being heated. I recognized the faces of those who were tending the fire but it didn't register in my mind, all other thought was being drowned out by the chanting, even the actual meanings of the words I had been given. The chant was about the sounds, the intention and the vibration of the words, not something as limiting as meaning.

I ducked down and crawled into the Lodge, Sam and Dean were laying on the ground to my right. They had changed into sweat pants and loose t-shirts, their eyes were closed and faces relaxed. My Teacher must have already guided them to an altered state. Several bottles of drinking water were stacked across from the entrance flap and there was a deep bowl of water and a small ladle waiting by the pit that was dug into the center of the Lodge. That's where the stones would go. I wasn't sure how much time had passed since I had entered Rising Dove's Sacred space but I knew it had been a lot brighter when I started then when I finished. I walked clockwise around the Lodge and sat in between the brothers, my hands reached out of their own volition and took Dean's hand in my right and Sam's in my left.

"Are you ready?" Rising Dove asked.

I nodded.

"We are not doing the usual four courses and done, this goes until the Spirits are finished."

I nodded again, the volume of my singing increased, my Teacher indicated to whoever stood outside the flap to bring the first stones then he started to chant as well. His voice and words struck a harmony and counterpoint to mine. The stones were brought in and placed in the pit, my Teacher poured water over them, they hissed, steam rose, the flap was closed and I fell into the darkness that enveloped me.

Dean's hand tightened on mine, Sam's twitched like he was trying to get away but I gripped him tighter. Shadows came out of the darkness. Twisting forms, mutilated faces, screaming, spiraling, wingtips brushed my head and a small beam of light pushed away the shadows.

"Sister Running Coyote," I heard a feminine voice speak. "Join me, we must speak to them through you." I turned my head slightly and saw the figure of a woman, feathers ran up her arms across her back, the rest of her was softly radiating a white light.

I nodded, still singing. She shifted form and an eagle flew through me, I felt myself being pulled in every direction at once, then my wings tilted. Eagle had joined with me, we were spiraling towards a wall of evil, of pain, rage, hate and loss, our wings pressed against our side and we dove; piercing the wall, twisting away from the hands that reached out to grab us. We were through, a heat so intense it was indescribable hit us and we saw Dean on a rack. An inky, shapeless, formless figure stood over him, cutting into Dean. Black tendrils slowly crept into Dean's body as he screamed and twisted in agony. They wrenched and twisted under his skin, pulling him apart from the inside out, the scene froze. Dean was whole again, a shadow slowly crept over him, he struggled desperately against the restraints but to no avail.

Whispers filled the room, whispers from Eagle, she was murmuring to Dean, scenes started to flash by faster and faster. Shafts of light penetrated the walls of blackness, one of them grabbed Dean and wrenched him off the rack, crossroads, choices, decisions all flew by.

Suddenly my vision split screened, Dean on my right, Sam on my left. Sam was in a cage, hands pressed desperately against his ears, trying to shut out something that whispered at him, tormenting him. Sam was out of the cage, lapping up blood from a dark and nameless being who hovered over him, gleefully grinning. Crow hovered over Sam, whispering to him like Eagle was Dean.

We, Eagle and I, shot up towards the sky, shafts of light and swirling pillars of darkness clashed and twisted around each other and on the ground far below Sam and Dean stood, in the center of the tumult. The light and the dark struck the ground and the brothers shifted and danced away, avoiding being struck full on but they were still being wounded. Each time a bolt seared into the ground next to them they cried out in pain and seemed to grow weaker. I watched as they kept pulling each other away from direct hits, screaming in defiance while blood oozed from the multiple wounds they had been dealt.

At one point they both looked directly up and terror almost ripped me from Eagle's grasp. Both of their eyes were midnight black, demented, twisted smiles distorting their faces and blood covering their hands. Dean looked at his Sam, his eyes cleared, he fell to his knees and raised his arms towards the sky, "No! Why?" he cried in tones of such abject loss and desperation that I wanted to dive down and save him but Eagle stopped me.

"No child, we cannot," she whispered. "Now they must release our family. Help them."

The Lodge came back into my view, my clothes were completely soaked with sweat so were the brothers. Their eyes simultaneously flew open but I could tell they were under the influence of the Spirits. They sat up and we stood up all in one smooth motion, Rising Dove opened the flap, we kept our hands locked together and walked out of the Lodge. The air outside was so cold, instantly goosebumps rose on my flesh and I shivered. My throat was burning from singing. We walked into the room where Fox Who Sings and her husband White Hawk were being kept. Someone handed Dean a book, but he shook his head. The three of us moved as one, Rising Dove joined us.

I looked at my friends, their bodies were struggling and pulling against the restraints and I heard the demons trying to laugh even through the gags. I felt Eagle and Crow drifting above us and the words to my chant changed. I paused. Dean and Sam squeezed my hands and started chanting in Latin in perfect unison and I resumed singing but with the new words. Latin and Lakota wrapped around each other, the syllables uniting and becoming even stronger than they would be on their own.

Bobby told me that demons usually leave by pouring out of people's mouths but as we chanted I saw black mist slowly rise from their bodies. Their movements became more fierce and desperate, the ropes cut into the arms of my friends as the demons tried to break free. We repeated the chant a second time, Rising Dove joined in this time and the mist rose faster and faster. A fierce wind ripped through the room, thunder crackled in the air and the floor shook. The four of us chanted louder then Eagle manifested directly above my friends, white, proud and ferocious. She opened her beak and the fierce, piercing shriek of her cry came close to shattering our ears, the mists swirled together and shot up towards her but Crow intercepted them and dove down into the ground, pulling the mists with him. Eagle cried again and disappeared in a flash of light.

Sam, Dean and I collapsed onto the ground, Cougar rushed over with water and slowly tipped some into each of our mouths. Dean was panting, I turned to look at him and saw he was completely horrified. Sam was muttering, barely coherent and had his head between his knees.


	9. Chapter 9 (Tasteful love scene warning)

Chapter 9

Rising Dove removed the blindfolds and gags from Fox and White Hawk, tears were streaming down their faces. He untied them and they fell into each others arms, "Thank you, thank you," they kept repeating. I nodded but I couldn't speak, Dean and Sam were still too stunned to think.

I had to move, the walls were pressing in around me, I was trembling and my stomach tried to heave. I dropped the brother's hands and tried to stand up. Cougar caught me before my face landed in the dirt.

"Stop, settle down," he said, his strong arms propping me up.

"Home, I have to go home. Please." Now that Eagle was gone what I had seen was no longer robbed of emotions, I couldn't look at it impartially anymore, sobs started ripping through me and I could hear the sound of Sam retching behind me.

"Take her, I'll help them." Rising Dove instructed. Cougar picked me up with no more effort than if I had been a doll and carried me home. He seemed to know that I needed the night air. I looked up and realized the moon had fully risen, her gentle light brushing the world around me.

"How long were we in there?"

"Three hours, no breaks." Cougar replied.

"What?"

He merely nodded, admiration on his face. "I've never seen a sweat go that long without a cool down period. Rising Dove just kept making me bring more and more stones. He refused to let it cool down. It was dangerous but I guess it worked out."

I lived about three blocks from the Lodge, I'd never been so happy to see my little round house. I'd built a small geodesic dome. It's fifteen feet tall, thirty feet in diameter and is about a thousand square feet in total between the two floors. My bedroom, guest room and one bathroom are upstairs. The bottom floor is pretty open and has the kitchen and other bathroom. I don't permanently share space with anyone but I usually have a few people sprawled out on the various couches and rugs I have scattered around the place. Cougar set me down and unlocked the door, he has a spare key, so does Rising Dove. I staggered inside and he brought me an entire pitcher of water and a glass.

"Drink. You need to."

I barely made it to the couch and slowly started drinking. The way my throat felt I began to understand the concept of dying from thirst. Cold water had never tasted so good. Cougar on the couch next to me and lapsed into silence. That was another one of his quirks. He would have been an excellent hunter if he'd ever wanted to leave the reservation, he was strong, fast, deadly and knew how to keep his mouth shut when it was required. He also know how to listen, actually listen.

My skin felt dry and crackly, when I looked down I realized there was a small film of salt covering my arms. "Can you go get some of the pickles from the fridge?" I asked. Pickles are brined, the juice from a pickle jar would go a long way to restoring all the salt and electrolytes I had burned through. He got up, padded into the kitchen and came back with an open jar of pickles in one hand and a damp towel in the other. I picked up the pickle jar, the sharp, tangy odor bit into my nose, "This is going to suck," I said just before I took a few drinks of the juice.

"Blech! Oh, yuck."

Cougar smiled and started wiping my arms and face with the towel.

"Thanks."

He put the towel down, wrapped one arm around my shoulders and held me close, "If anyone doubts you as a Shaman anymore, they are blind."

"Or just stubborn and proud."

He shook his head, a small frown crossed his face, "No, blind. Do you want me to stay?"

I knew I shouldn't be completely alone, my hands were still shaking and the throbbing from Badger's hit was coming back.  
>"Yes, but I need space." I wanted to crawl into a bathtub, get this salt off of me, take four aspirins and collapse into bed where I could cry my eyes out over what I had seen. I couldn't even fathom the concept of being around Sam and Dean right now. What we had been through had been too intense, too primal and personal, they wouldn't be able to handle seeing each other for a few days much less me.<p>

"I'll stay down here," Cougar offered. "Do what you need. Call if you need help."

I squeezed his huge hand once, "Thank you." He nodded and took his arm from his shoulders and helped me up. It took a minute but I my legs finally felt steady enough to walk. I plucked a pickle out of the jar, carefully picked up a glass of water and slowly walked up the stairs.

One of the major requirements for my own house was a very deep, claw foot tub. I hate bathing and having my knees, or feet or whatever sticking out of the water, getting cold. I'd found one, it was new but was designed to look old, like something you'd see in an old Victorian house. There was substance to it, it was actually the centerpiece of the bathroom, at least until you closed the doors around it. That's the other thing I've never liked. Tubs in the middle of the bathroom where they just get colder faster. I cranked the water to steaming,closed the doors, pulled off my salt encrusted clothes and took a good look at my face. It had indeed swelled and was bruising, making me look like a chipmunk with nuts in only one side of my mouth. The white butterfly bandages on my side stood out in stark contrast to my skin. I'd managed to keep them mostly dry when I showered at Rising Dove's but I'd have to cover them up with something for a bath. I dug around under my counter and found a large waterproof bandage that I placed over the ones that were holding my skin together. Steam was slowly rising, fogging over the mirror so I walked to the tub, stepped in and stood there, eating my pickle and drinking water. Once I finished those I put the glass on the floor outside the tub and eased into the water. I don't remember much after that until I noticed the water had grown cold.

I must have turned the water off since my bathroom wasn't flooded but I didn't remember doing it. Once I got out, pulled the plug so the water could drain and put on some fresh clothes I felt almost human again. I made my way to the balcony that overlooked the living room and saw Cougar watching TV. "I'm doing ok," I said, the acoustics of the dome made it so I didn't have to shout or even raise my voice. "I'm going to lay down. You can take off if you want."

He looked up at me, "You have a bigger screen than I do, I'll stay a little longer."

"You're choice," I paused before turning to go to my room, he looked an awful lot like a big cat sprawled across my couch. His head was propped up against one armrest, his arms and legs stretched out at various and odd angles. I had no idea how he was comfortable, but I always wonder the same things about cats when they are upside down, they're front and back feet are shooting off in all directions.

I finally turned away, debated on getting aspirins but the throbbing had lessened for whatever reason and walking back to the bathroom seemed like too much effort. I ended up face down on my bed and asleep between one breath and the next.

Someone was in my room, I woke up feeling it. It was still dark out and I wasn't sure if I had slept the whole day through and it was night again or what.

"Coyote?" Someone whispered.

It took a second before I recognized who it was. Dean, his voice was shaking so much it barely sounded like him at all. I rolled onto my side, opened my eyes and froze. Damn it. I couldn't see his eyes as it was dark but his posture alone told me everything I needed to know, one arm was by his side, the other reached across his chest to hold it tight, his shoulders were hunched forward, he was leaning heavily against my door frame, his knees bent and barely holding his weight. Tremors and shivers worked their way through his body and his chest was heaving at the force of the sobs he was trying to keep inside.

I pushed the covers back, he took two steps and just fell onto the bed and into my arms.

"I, oh God, I didn't know, I didn't know. What did I do?" The words came out in between racking, tearing sobs. "Did you see? I felt it, the pain. How can I? She said, you said, I can't break. I can't. Why? So many choices and no matter which way I pick...I can't save...help, please help me."

I held him tight, his tears started to soak the shirt I was wearing.

"Sammy, I couldn't let him go, I couldn't. I didn't know..."

More disjointed words and phrases fell from his lips, I started humming softly, hoping to ease his panic.

"Why us? Why? I don't want this, it's too much, things fighting over us, we can't win, can't escape it. Why?"

"I don't know, I don't." I really didn't and I couldn't bring myself to offer him false comfort.

He rolled out of my arms and curled up into a tight ball, I moved in behind him, put one of my legs over his and slid my arm through the small space between his arms and his chest and gripped his hands as tightly as I could.

"It hurt, so much, I can still feel it."

I could hear his teeth chattering together, his shaking was becoming stronger and stronger. He tried to pull his hands away from mine, when I wouldn't let go I felt his nails start digging into his skin. I'd had powerful visions before, the stronger they are the harder it is to bring yourself back from them. I had years of training to prepare me for visions, Dean didn't. He was going into psychic shock, if I didn't get him to calm down and readjust to actual reality, not what he had seen, there was a distinct possibility that he could have a mental break.

"I know honey, I know. Listen to me, focus on what I'm saying."

"I can't, can't...it's not the end, but why..."

"Shh, shh, slow your breathing," I started slowly stroking his hair.

"Listen..." I started singing a Healing Song my father had taught me. It took a few minutes but Dean's shaking started subsiding, his chest heaved less and less. I kept singing. As the words of the song continued to drift into the air around me I sunk, once again, into a light trance. I have several calming and healing stones placed around my room and I reached out to them, bonding with their vibrations and slowly knit them together over and around Dean and I. Each new thread I pulled together and brushed over Dean drifted down and rested on top of him, attracting his scattered and frayed Warrior Spirit to them, giving his Spirit something to cling to, to rest upon and to gather it's strength back.

Incoherence eventually became coherent the longer I sang, the muscles in his arms relaxed, then his back, the chattering of his teeth lessened. His breathing slowed, and deepened. I had no idea how I was able to get words out, my throat burned with every syllable I uttered. I knew I was still dehydrated but I sang until I was sure he was out of danger, then quietly trailed off into silence. I was afraid that if I abruptly stopped it would be too jarring for him.

"Thank you," he whispered. "Get some water, you sound like you're in pain."

"I'll be fine," I croaked.

"Go, please," he said. "I don't want you to hurt yourself."

I was afraid if I left, he'd be stupid and stubborn and try to walk out of my house, "Only if you promise to stay right here."

"Promise."

I untangled myself from him and tried to stand up. I really did, but my legs refused to work and I ended up sitting on the edge of the bed with the room spinning around me.

I heard him shift on the bed and felt his hand on my shoulder. "You lie down, I'll go."

"No, you.."

"Can stand," he interrupted, "Unlike you."

I didn't have enough strength to fight about it and crawled back into the bed.

When he returned and handed me a warm cup instead of a cold glass I was surprised. "What's this?"

"I found your stash of tea, threw a ton of lemon and honey into it, and a bit of whiskey." A flash of white teeth appeared in the darkness as he smiled, "I brought just water too, there's a pitcher and glass on the table next to you."

His hand shook as I took the mug from him. "Thank you," I said. The tea instantly soothed my throat, I made sure to take small sips and drink some of the water as well. He leaned against my head board and downed a glass or two of water. I remembered something and pulled open the drawer of the nightstand, found my lighter and finally managed to stand up.

"What are you doing?"

"Candles, sage, they'll help." Speaking was going to hurt for another day or two. I lit the two Sacred candles I had made a few weeks ago along with a small bundle of dried sage. Once that was done I got back under the covers and watched the shadows dance on the wall. Dean's breathing started to pick up again.

"Dean?" I looked at him, the candlelight allowed me to see his eyes finally. They were bloodshot, filled with unshed tears and wide with fear. He looked at me, closed his eyes as tight as he could and grabbed my hand.

"Don't sing," he said in between tight, shallow breaths. "I know it helps but your throat has got to be on fire."

I took some more sips of tea, scooted closer to him, reached out and touched his cheek. "Look at me. This is real, not your vision."

He opened his eyes and focused on mine, almost in desperation. "But it feels real. It happened, I felt it, I heard what they said."

"I'll rephrase, that vision isn't now, it's not in this moment. If you get lost in what you saw you can get stuck there, I've seen it happen." I lifted up the hand he was holding, slid underneath his arm, wrapped it around my shoulders and leaned into his chest. He pressed his face into my hair, I felt some tears fall and land on my shoulder.

"How can you be so calm?" He asked, "I know you had to have seen some of what I did. I heard your voice when that eagle lady spoke to me. Yours overlaid hers."

"I've had practice, but trust me, I'm not as calm as I seem. I did see you and that thing and some of what Sam saw too." I shivered this time but I pushed the image out of my mind. He gripped me tighter and I felt him kiss the top of my head.

"Coyote, I..." Whatever words he was going to say got stuck in his throat as he took another shuddering breath. He turned his head away from me but I pulled his face back around to look at mine. There was a question in his eyes underneath all the fear and pain, and I suddenly remembered who I was dealing with. I leaned in and kissed him, gently, on the lips. Dean would never be able to get past this by talking about it or meditating. We were too much alike. The vision had shown Dean his death, monstrous amounts of pain and who knows what else. The only way he could fight back was the way hunters let themselves down after an intense hunt. By reminding themselves that they are still alive. He didn't respond at first, so I kissed him again and ran my hand up under his shirt. He pulled away, a confused look on his face.

"Dean," I whispered into his ear, "You're still alive, so am I."

A broken sob escaped him, his arms crushed me as his lips desperately clung to mine. My hand wrapped around his head and pulled him somehow closer to me, it still didn't feel close enough. A flash of him screaming on the rack rose in my mind, I responded by shoving him down on the bed. I ran my hands under his shirt, discovering new scars he had gotten since last time we were together. He gripped my hair and stopped me from leaning in to kiss him again and I watched his eyes work their way over my face, like he had never seen me before.

I understood, he was reaching, fighting and grasping for something to anchor him back here, back in this world. I waited.

His right hand pulled away from my hair and traced the lines of my jaw, my cheeks and even down my nose.

I tilted my head and kissed his hand as he passed it over my lips, "I'm real, I'm here," I told him.

Slowly his hand traced down my neck and back up. He pulled me closer, lifted his head and gently kissed me. Then he leaned back, his eyes searching mine for some sort of answer while pulling me deeper into the shattered green depths of his.

I rolled off of him, laid on my side and traced the muscles of his arm with my fingers, rediscovering the strength that was there. Eventually I worked my way up to his face, he softly held my hand to his cheek, tilting his head so his cheek pressed even deeper into the palm of my hand. Suddenly he flinched and closed his eyes, something from the vision must have come back to him. I leaned down and kissed his forehead, "Let it go."

He nodded, exhaled and opened his eyes again. My hand kept tracing his face, down his neck and across his chest. My eyes connected with his again and my chest tightened. I'd lose him, in less than a year and he'd be getting torn to pieces. I stopped those thoughts before they could go too far but he had seen it on my face.

"Let it go," he said.

I nodded, he pulled me down and kissed me again, teasing this time, searching with his lips, making the moment stretch. I remembered other nights we had been together, I dug my hand into his chest through his shirt and a whispered moan rose from his lips.

His right hand left my hair and ran down my back, slowly tracing each vertebrae and down across to the inside of my hip where he tightened his fingers and raked them down my inner thigh. That got a moan out of me. I shifted my mouth from his lips to the side of his neck and lightly tugged at the skin there with my teeth. I heard his breath hiss through his teeth and his left hand dug into the small of my back, I drove my hips into his leg as a reply.

I felt his teeth dig into my neck and I slid my nails under his shirt and across his stomach, he froze.

"Stop," he hissed as his hands started shaking.

"Shit. Sorry, I'm so sorry." The vision, the tendrils had been driving into his stomach. I pulled my hands away, laid down and put an arm over his chest. It was too soon and I'd messed up. I'd failed him, the tears I had been so successfully holding back started to fall. "I didn't mean to, I just...," Now I was the one being incoherent.

He rolled over and held me as he took some deep breaths. I felt his lips move closer to my ear. He nibbled at my ear lobe then lightly breathed into my ear, "Let it go," he whispered and laid a trail of kisses down my neck.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

He paused in his explorative kissing, pulled away from me, yanked his shirt off and rolled on top of me. "Yes." Then his lips reconnected with mine and he pulled my hands up, over my head and shifted his grip so he held both my wrists with one of his hands. His right hand braced him while he worked his way down my neck to my breasts. My breaths started coming faster. I was wearing my usual tight tank to to sleep but he didn't let that get in the way, his teeth found my nipple and I rose my hips up against his. He dropped his weight down, holding me in place. I'm strong but Dean is probably around two hundred pounds of sheer muscle, I had no leverage and I really didn't mind.


	10. Chapter 10 (Love scene continues)

CHAPTER 10

He paused, a slow shiver worked it's way down his spine, he took several deep breaths and looked up at me. Something in his eyes shifted, his face paled as he realized how he was restraining me. I didn't mind but it was too close to how he had been shackled in the vision. He released my wrists and slowly pushed my shirt up, I arched my back as he worked it up and over my head. Once it was completely off he stared down at me, then looked over his shoulders at the candles.

A small grin made the corners of his mouth curve up, he slid his arms under me and shifted us ninety degrees to the right. I immediately realized why. The candles were at the foot of the bed and when he was on top of me he blocked their light, by shifting us so we were parallel to them he could watch the light dance across my skin.

I relaxed and let him watch the shadows dance and play across my bare chest and face. My mind drifted back to other nights we had spent together. There were nights we had plain, simple sex, no emotions, just physical release. I remembered one time the first words out of his mouth when he called me were "So, in the mood for mad monkey sex?" Other times, there was something more, emotions came into play, whether it was because one of us had come too close to dying on a hunt, something had gone wrong in our lives or just something clicked that time we both had felt it, silently acknowledged it and enjoyed it. This time, this moment was about all of that and more. People forget that sex is, at it's root, a celebration of life, a sacred act and that was what this moment was between us. Dean traced the shadows on my skin as they danced and shifted, exploring every single inch of my torso, completely entranced by it.

The physical sensation and sexual energy was there, there was no denying it. I felt it rising and spreading through me but there was no rush, no drive to move forward with the actual act. Watching Dean watch me and get lost in what he saw was more important, more precious. I was content, fulfilled in a way, even if nothing else happened, this was more than enough.

"You're beautiful," he murmured.

I didn't reply, the light was playing along his bare chest and I had gotten as lost in watching him as he was in watching me. My hand slowly crept up along his stomach and swept along the curves of his pec muscles, over his ribs and along his waistline. His eyes closed, his mouth relaxed and opened and a small sigh of pleasure filled the room.

"You're not too bad yourself," I finally managed to say, I felt his stomach muscles dance as he chuckled.

A soft, sneaky grin appeared on his face, "It's only because Sam always forgets to get pie."

"Good thing too, or else you'd have quite the gut."

"Hush you," he gently scolded and ran his hand across my waist, teasing, probing and drifting down across my leg.

"Keep that up and hushing won't be an option," I warned.

A simple, pleasure filled smile rested on his face, he shifted to lay on his side, propping his head up with an arm and rested his legs over mine, fingers still idly tracing across my breasts and stomach. The movements he made were more relaxing than arousing and I felt my eyes start to close, the tension in my arms and legs began to dissipate. I was drifting.

Dean started to hum and softly sing the melody of the Healing Song that I had used to calm him. He didn't try to pronounce the words of course but the melody was enough. Hearing it coming from him, the emotions I had suppressed from the vision slowly started to work their way out of me. They came gently, quietly, as if pulled inch by inch by the notes I heard. The tears came, he brushed them away, soft sobs pressed against my lungs,

"Let it out Coyote, please," he comforted me.

I did as he asked. Once the worst of it had passed, I slowly opened my eyes. He was hovering above me, stroking my hair gently.

Less than a year left, it wasn't long enough. It hit me all at once, my hand shot out, wrapped itself around the back of his neck and pulled down. He didn't fight it, our lips met and there was no stopping or slowing down.

Like a cougar pouncing, strong arms wrapped around me, rolling me over so I was on top of him. I didn't remember taking his jeans off because all I cared about was the feel of his lips on mine, his hands running down my back, holding me, pulling me towards him. The physical met the emotional and became something spiritual which twisted and molded itself into our battle cry that raged against the pain, the horror and the death the Spirits had shown us.

We were still alive and that, in the end was our victory.

We collapsed next to each other, I'd completely lost track of time. Our hands were still entwined and our chests heaving. Spiritual mad monkey sex was much more intense than I would have thought.

"We're all sweaty again," he pointed out.

"Don't care," I barely murmured, I was drained in more ways than one. I found the water pitcher, refilled both of our glasses and downed mine in a few gulps. "Sleep, need sleep."

He curled around me, pulled me close and the last thing I remember was him humming in my ear.

I woke up, light was peeking around the edges of my curtains. My eyes felt dry and sticky, I wasn't drinking anything but water today, I could tell. I peered at my clock which assured me that it was indeed daylight and close to mid-afternoon at that. Dean was still asleep. I needed a shower and food. I got out of bed and walked by my spare room on the way to the bathroom when a thought hit me. I had to make something for him. I knew exactly what, how and I had everything I needed to do it.

"Shower, eat, craft." I told myself. I took care of the first two in record time and then went into my spare bedroom which also houses my Sacred Space and went to work.

I dug through my scraps of leather, found a dark tan piece and started tracing a circle around the edges that would serve as my guide for cutting. Once I finished that I pulled out my rock case. I had found large wooden antique jewelry box that more compartments that I could count in it. I used it to store rocks and gems I would pick up on my hikes along with pre-prepared herb packets and random other items. I didn't even have to sort through things, my hands went right to what I needed, the rocks and herbs seemed to call to me, letting me know that this was their chosen purpose. Once I was done with my rock case I located my beading supplies, which were less well organized and eventually found the small pendant I wanted. I had just finished tying the bundle up, attaching the pendant and whispering a small blessing over it when I heard a knock at my door.

On my way down the stairs I looked into my room and Dean was still asleep, I close the door and answered the door. It was Sam, he looked like hell. I instantly felt guilty, I'd be so wrapped up with Dean I hadn't even checked on him.

"Sam! I..."

"Is he here?" He stopped me, face tense, shoulders tight and shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Yeah, I'll go wake him up."

Before I could even turn away he grabbed hold of my arm. "No. We need to talk. I need you to help me with something. Grab some shoes, walk with me." Sam's hazel eyes had turned a deep brown, and what I saw lurking behind them made me feel like prey. I remembered how he looked drinking blood in the vision, he had craved it, needed it.

I took a deep, calming breath and moved much slower than I normally would. "Sure, hold on."

I keep some sandals by the front door, I slid my feet into them, stepped out and shut the door behind me.

I had to lengthen my stride to keep up with the fast pace he set, "Sam? I should have checked on you, I'm sorry."

He shook his head, "It's fine. Rising Dove stayed with me. I'm not here about me."

"It's not fine," I disagreed.

He stopped moving and stood completely still, "It seems that when the Spirits used you to talk to us, it linked Dean's and my visions together," he said, his tone was rigidly controlled. "I saw Dean, on that rack. What I saw about me, it's not important right now." He exhaled sharply and started moving again. I chose to stay silent and follow.

"I can't stay here," he continued, "I called Bobby and told him I needed him to meet me somewhere between his place and here. I know I am not up to a five hour drive yet." He took another breath and finally looked at me. The predator that had been in his eyes at the beginning of our walk had faded, he looked more like Sam should, concerned about his brother.

"You can stay at my place as long as you need Sam, you know that," I offered.

"No, I can't. I, I don't belong here. I can't explain it. I need space, so does Dean and neither of us will get it if he comes with me."

"Sam, look around." I gestured at the wide open plains around us, "There's plenty of space."

"You're not getting it!" He snarled.

I stopped and grabbed his arm which he almost wrenched out of my grip before stopping himself. "Look at me."

Slowly his head turned and such disgust and self loathing was on his face, "What is this taint that you won't talk about? What happened?" I asked, I wanted to help him somehow.

"For the last time, Coyote, it's not important right now. I'm not the one going to Hell, at least not yet. You have to help me convince Dean to stay for a few days. I need the keys to the Impala and he has them."

"Sam, slow down. I haven't caught up on whatever it is that is going on with you two. If you're not going to fill me in on the details at least explain your reasoning here."

The disgust slowly slid off of his face, he brushed his hair back and looked over my head and out across the plains. "The first thing Dean will do when he wakes up is want to check on me, he'll worry about how I am, what I saw, what's wrong with me. If we leave right now he's going to push down what he saw, what he's afraid of. He'll start drinking more than he already is, have even more nightmares and become more and more unhinged. My issues will allow him to ignore his own and he can't right now, he has to stop for a few days. We've been either on the road or killing something with no breaks for a little over two years now. I don't want to explain why right now. He's past the edge, way past it." Hazel eyes shifted from the plains back to my face, "He need this, needs you, needs to stop, to remember something other than his idiotic, stupid feelings of failing everyone in his life."

"Needs me?" That surprised me, "We haven't seen each other in years and even when we were spending time together we weren't in any special type of relationship."

Sam shook his head, a tender, rueful smile crossed his face, "You may want to check those Shaman instincts of yours. You mean something to him. He talks about you from time to time, not just about the sex. He'll see something and mention a phrase you said or something you guys did. Just about every time we see a coyote while we're driving he gets this small, weird smile on his face. He usually tries to hide it but I see it. Dean doesn't drive hours out of his way to meet just any woman."

I wasn't sure how to process that and it sure as hell was going to make saying goodbye that much harder. "Sam, I, well, shit."

He placed his hand on my shoulder, "Look, Dean has never and will never have what I got to have with someone I loved more than life itself back in college. We both know why. What you guys had, and judging by the fact that he came to you last night, still have, is probably the closest thing to an actual relationship with someone he'll ever have. He needs that right now. He doesn't need to be a big brother, caring about everyone else. He needs to be cared for. He won't let me do that but he will let you."

I ran through the last two days in my mind and all the inconsistencies in Dean's behavior made sense. The edginess, the over protectiveness, the fear fueled anger, it all tracked with what Sam was saying. The moment I first saw him standing in the dark in my room, silently pleading for help. That was Dean in a totally unguarded moment, that was him baring his soul, dropping his masks and admitting that he needed help. I placed my hand on top of the one Sam had on my shoulder, "He needs to remember he's still alive," I said.

He nodded, "Not just that, but what life is. Please."

"The hits just keep coming don't they?" I asked.

That got a small chuckle out of Sam, "Welcome to Winchester life."

"Ok, I'll do it. Maybe after this I can bring about world peace. I think it'd be easier than what we've dealt with in the past two days."

Sam wrapped his arms around me, laughing, "Probably."

He let go and we turned to head back to my house, "Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;" I quoted from Shakespeare's Henry V.

"But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger;  
>Stiffen the sinews,summon up the blood," Sam replied.<p>

I hadn't wanted to dwell and the pillars of light and dark that were hammering the ground around the brothers in the vision. "War?"

He just nodded, we walked the rest of the way in silence.

"Crap," Sam said as we walked up the stairs to my porch.

"What?"

"Dean's up. I saw him in the window watching us walk up. He's already dressed."

"Let me handle this," Now that I knew how things stood between them I knew that Dean would automatically object to anything Sam said. We opened the door and walked in, Dean was pulling his boots on.

"Where do you think you're going?" I asked.

"We should probably get on the road," he said and looked at Sam, "You ok Sammy?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah, Rising Dove helped me out. Dean.."

I shot a look at Sam who shut up. "Sam didn't come to get you out of bed and on the road. He's going to stay with Bobby a few days, you're staying here."

Dean's face hardened, he stood but had to reach out and steady himself using the back of the couch. "Who decided this?"

"Sam did. He needs space and you need downtime."

"I'm fine," he countered.

I didn't give him any warning. I just walked up to him and threw a three quarter speed punch at his face. He failed to get his hands up in time to block it and my hand stopped less then an inch from his nose.

"You're not fine." Then to prove my point I took his hands and wrenched his arms apart in a spread eagle position, mimicking how he had been shackled to the rack. A cold sweat broke out on his face, he started shaking again and his breathing became harsh and broken. I let his arms drop and held him tightly.

"Stay here, please," I whispered in his ear, "Sam will be with Bobby, he'll be fine. Let me help you." I had to brace my legs to take the sudden shift in weight caused by him leaning into me. I felt his knees start to buckle but he caught himself in time. Once he was stable enough he pulled out of my embrace and looked past me at Sam, a silent question on his face.

"Dean, please. Stay with her," Sam answered.

I watched as Dean struggled with it. "Are you sure you'll be ok?"

"I'll be with Bobby. I'll be fine. Let someone help you for once."

Dean reached into his pocket and threw the keys at Sam.

"Thank you," Sam said. I could hear the relief in his voice.

Dean stood there, unsure what to do next.

"You, back to bed," I told Dean with a slight push towards the stairs. "I'll bring you some food. Sam, don't leave yet. I want to give you some things."

Dean walked up the stairs, looked back at Sam, then went into my room and shut the door.

"I like how you handle things," Sam congratulated me.

"You have to speak in ways people will understand. You. Sit. You're not much better off than he is."


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

"Have you eaten?" I asked Sam.

"No. Food isn't really appealing to me right now."

I'd had to force myself to eat when I woke up. Intense psychic or spiritual experiences really mess with your digestive tracts and body processes. It takes a day or two for things to come back online and you have to be careful what you put in your system. Anything too heavy or filled with crap will wreck serious havoc with you. I'd worked out what my system could handle after starting to seriously study with Rising Dove and I figured it would work well enough to get Sam and Dean through the next few days. I went into my kitchen, pulled several Tupperware containers out from my pantry and started filling them with fresh fruits, wheat crackers, some of the leftover 12 grain bread, two of the snack bars I had picked up at Stella and Ralph's place and a very small piece of the blueberry pie. I packed all that in a plastic bag along with three bottles of water. Once that was done I went back upstairs to my rock case, selected three packs of herbs and went back down to the living room and placed on the table in front of Sam.

"Okay, listen up. Avoid any heavy foods, no greasy crap or sugary things for the next day or two. You can have the piece of pie that's in here because I know Stella and George use healthy ingredients."

"Um why?"

"The way your stomach feels right now when it's empty. If you eat anything too harsh multiply that by about twenty. It's the after effect of what you went through, you're not all back yet." For some reason he seemed to understand that concept. "Now, slowly work your way through what's in this bag on your drive to meet Bobby, save the pie for later tonight or tomorrow. Keep drinking water, there's some in here for you. When you get to the hotel make tea using these packets. Have a cup tonight and a cup tomorrow morning and another one tomorrow night. It'll be bitter as hell so either get some honey or just choke it down. It's grounding tea, it will help your system settle down. Call as soon as you hook up with Bobby, Dean will be worried and so will I. If you feel queasy, dizzy or just not all here, pull over and let it pass. Do not push yourself for at least three or four days. I'll call you when Dean is more stable and can handle getting back on the road. We can meet you somewhere or you can come back here. We'll decide that later. I'll give you about four hours, if you don't check in and I can't reach you or Bobby, Dean and I are hitting the road looking for you. There's not that many places between here and Bobby's you can meet up and I know them all. Any questions?"

As I'd rambled on he started looking more and more like a little kid getting instructions from his mom. He relaxed, his eyes brightened and lost the last of the intensity they had held when he first showed up and he almost seemed embarrassed by the effort I was putting forth to take care of him. When I finished, he reached out, took my hands and pulled me down for a hug, "Thank you for caring, for both of us." His voice throbbed with emotion and I remembered he'd grown up on the road, without a mother or even really a father.

What little Dean had told me about his past it had been pretty obvious that their father was gone more than he was around. I ran my hand through his long, shaggy hair "You're welcome. I care about you too, not just him." He held me tight for another minute than let me go, gathered the bags up and I walked him to the door.

"Drive safe," I told him.

"Don't let Dean drive you nuts," he replied.

"Oh, I think it may actually end up being the other way around. Letting someone take care of him is a whole new experience and we all know how well Dean adapts to new things."

The look on Sam's face, I wished I'd had a camera. It was a equal mix of mischief, excitement, and anticipation. "I want pictures of anything cutesy he ends up doing," he said, "Blackmail material for miles and miles."

I bust out laughing, "Deal. Remember to call."

Sam nodded and walked away. I took a deep breath, let it out and started trying to focus on how to help Dean. Suddenly what I had told Bobby on the phone about Herculean tasks came back to me, "Apparently I am becoming my own fortune teller as well," I grumbled as I headed back into the kitchen to gather up food for Dean. I managed to balance containers full of fruit and bread and two empty mugs for tea in one hand while carrying a tea pot filled with hot water and steeping herbs as I walked up the stairs. I kicked the door and Dean opened up.

He took the pot from me, set it down on my dresser and arched an eyebrow at me. "Tea?"

"Yes, tea. You made me some last night, remember?"

"That was for you, I can't stand that stuff."

"I brought honey. It'll be fine."

"Thanks, but I'll stick with water," he said and went to lay back down.

"Your choice but here's something to consider. You don't drink the tea, I spend the next six months tracking you down and taking parts off of Baby while you sleep. You'll never know if she'll still have her distributor cap or spark plugs in the morning when you go to start her."

"You wouldn't dare," he half snarled.

"Bobby would find it entertaining and make sure I knew where you were." We stared at each other, his eyes narrowed. I picked up the pot, "Sam would help too, just to piss you off." I said in passing as I poured myself a cup. I heard him grumble something.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Fine, I'll have one cup."

"Good." I poured his cup and dumped a generous amount of honey in both cups then handed him one.

He sniffed at it, grimaced and took a few sips, "It's not too bad I guess."

I turned around, knelt down and grabbed three DVD's from the bottom of the small entertainment center I have. "Pick one, Natural Born Killers, Robin Williams Live at the Met or When Harry Met Sally." I told him.

He shifted his gaze out the window, and started to get lost in thought, "Not really in a movie mood."

I knew he was going to dwell on Sam driving, the vision and whatever else was going on his life and that was the last thing he needed to do.

"Fine, chick flick it is."

He grabbed a pillow and put it over his face, "I'm in he...," he stopped speaking, gripped the mug tighter, then, ever so slowly, began to relax his grip.

I didn't say anything, just slid the movie into the DVD player, set my cup on the nightstand on my side of the bed, picked up the the food I brought and sat next to him putting the food between us.

The movie started, I wrapped one arm around his shoulders, used the other to pull the pillow off his face and feed him some strawberries. "Eat, watch movie, relax."

He grumbled and ate the strawberry. Twenty minutes into the movie he was chuckling, by the time the famous orgasm scene hit, he was actually laughing and I had snuck him an extra mug of tea. I looked at him, it was good to see him laughing like he used to years ago. I hadn't realized how serious he had become until I saw him let it all go. There's a mirror above my TV. Dean was totally sucked into the movie so I slowly grabbed my phone off the nightstand, aimed it so the TV and the mirror was in the shot and took a picture. The photo framed the TV and Dean's smiling, laughing face was reflected back in the mirror. A sly thought came to me after I took the picture but I bided my time. The movie ended, we had finished the whole pot of tea and all the strawberries and bread were gone.

He looked at me, a smile still on his face and lightly kissed my cheek. "What other movies do you have?"

"Would you like more comedy or something else?" I asked

"Comedy works. That Robin Williams one is good unless you have something else in mind," he replied.

"I never say no to Robin," I said, "How's your stomach feeling?

He thought about it for a second, "Better than when I woke up. I feel more here, more together. If that makes any sense."

I let a smug smile cross my face, "Grounding tea. I was stealthily working magic on you. You didn't even notice the second cup did you?"

"Sneaky Shaman Running Coyote, sneaky."

There was an undertone of respect and pride when he said that. I was surprised at how good it felt to hear that from him, it threw me off for a minute. "Thanks. Bathroom break, then next movie. I have something else for you too. Be right back."

I returned to the kitchen, decided to risk some coffee along with a very small piece of pie for both of us but I made sure to bring another pitcher of water along as well just in case. I made it back upstairs just as Dean was settling back into bed.  
>"Now this is breakfast," he said when he smelled the coffee and saw the pie.<p>

"We have to go easy on food the next day or two but I'm pretty sure a small piece won't hurt us." I explained to him the same things I told Sam before he left as we carefully ate a few bites of the pie.

When I finished speaking he slowly pulled the fork out of his mouth and gave me a look that got my pulse racing, "So, we're supposed to stay in bed and rest for a few days. Right?"

"Yeah, rest."

"Hmmm," he said, then used his finger to dig a small amount of filling out of the pie and held it up to my mouth. "I think I can handle that."

I accepted the offer of the pie filling, lightly holding his finger in between my teeth. A lazy, promising grin settled on his lips, he pulled his finger out of my mouth and started the next movie. This was one of the times patience would definitely be a virtue.

By the end of Robin Williams mind numbingly, masterful and timeless performance our stomachs hurt, not from the food or the lingering ritual affects but from the effort of laughing for two hours straight. My phone rang, it was Bobby.

"Bobby? Is Sam with you?" I said and Dean gave me an anxious look.

"Yup, he's a bit worse for the wear but he's here. He wanted to call you but I told him to lie down before he fell down. Looks like he hasn't slept in a day or two."

I nodded to Dean to let him know that Sam was fine and he relaxed again. "Did he eat the food I gave him?"

"Think so."

"There's some tea in there, make sure he drinks a cup of it soon. Dean's already had his."

Dean's eyes went wide in embarrassed panic. "Shhhh!" He hissed at me and tried to grab the phone from my hand, I was faster and slid off the bed before he could get a hold of it.

"Wait, Dean's drinking tea? How the hell did you pull that off?"

I heard a thump in the background, two quick steps and Sam's voice came through the line, "Yes! What else?"

"He didn't seem to notice," I replied and paused.

Dean was shaking his head, "Don't you dare..." he warned.

I smiled at him and darted out the door and down the stairs. "He was too busy watching When Harry Met Sally."

"Coyote!" I heard a snarl from behind me and footsteps trying to catch up to me.

"Sam! Give me the damn phone." I heard Bobby scold.

"Tell me there are pictures," Sam nearly yelled into my ear.

"Yup, got one for you."

"Awesome! Send it, send it!" Sam shouted.

I evaded Dean's arms but then my foot got caught on the corner of the rug and I tripped.

Dean didn't miss a beat and wrapped his hand around my phone and tugged at it. "Give it!" he tried to snarl in between suppressed laughs.

I twisted, managed to slip his grip, lightly shoved him away, vaulted my low couch, dashed back up the stairs and slammed my bedroom door closed in his face.

"Sending. Glad you're safe Sam, you owe me."

"Anything, anytime. You have made my entire year Coyote," Sam's giddy voice replied. I texted the photo to him and waited. Dean was trying to shove the door open but I had braced my legs against my heavy dresser. That door wasn't moving until I chose to let it move.

"Woman! I swear!" He threatened.

"I got it," Sam said and then I heard wave upon wave of laughter come through my phone speaker, and it wasn't just Sam's, Bobby had joined in too.

"Gotta go, I might not have a door left if I hold him back too much longer." I told them, hung up and opened the door. Dean burst into the room, picked me up, threw me on the bed and landed on top of me.  
>"You back stabbing, sneaky, evil, double crossing, deceitful woman. I swear."<p>

"Sam made me promise. I couldn't let him down,"

"Sure he did," His green eyes danced, all the tension and fear he had shown earlier was gone. He leaned down and kissed me. Time had no meaning for us from that point on.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

We spent the rest of day alternating between movies and entertaining ourselves in other ways. Evening fell, although I had been making sure to keep a constant stream of simple foods at hand both of us were craving something heavier. I had learned over the years to listen to my body and dug around in my freezer for some bison burgers. Bison is less fatty than beef and, in my opinion, tastes better. Dean fired up the grill, I made some simple side dishes and we ate outside on the porch.

We don't really buy land on the Reservation, you find a place, put your house there and claim whatever space you want. I had planted a few herbs and other things around the porch in an attempt to start my own garden but I wasn't really that good that it. I tended to forget to water things. I think the only reason anything was still alive was Rising Dove took pity on my poor, neglected plants and had taken over watering them at least once a week. My porch faced east. Once I moved back home and wasn't out hunting creatures of the night all the time I had found that even if I stayed up until midnight I would wake up early. The colors that bathed the plains and foothills around me as the sun crept over the horizon never failed to make me stop and watch, morning coffee or tea on my porch had become somewhat of a ritual for me now.

Dean and I ate in silence, listening to the songs of the world around us. Coyotes sang and called to each other, small yips, yaps and high pitched barks from foxes harmonized and blended in with the coyote song. Chirps, buzzes and all the other insect related night noises provided counterpoint and the rhythm section for the coyotes and foxes. It was half moon but still bright enough to walk around at night. I had lost count of how many night hikes I had gone on since moving home.

"It's peaceful out here," Dean said, "There's something about it, it's different. I've stayed in a lot of out of the way places but they don't feel like this."

"I always forgot how it felt, then I'd come back for a visit and be reminded. There were times I didn't want to leave."

"Why did you?" he asked.

I sighed, put my plate on the table and curled up in my chair.

"You don't have to talk about it you don't want to."

He'd never asked before, it wasn't something that we usually brought up, our pasts. "At first, to get an education. My parents split up when I was thirteen. My mother wanted to leave, to get a job that pays, have a nice house all of that. She was an amazing writer and researcher and wanted to pursue other opportunities than what she could here. She submitted articles to newspapers and magazines and kept getting offered jobs either as a staff writer or a research assistant, many of them were willing to let her work from home but back then internet was non existent out here. My Dad loved it here, he felt that leaving would be turning his back on who he was, they fought a lot and my mother finally left. They gave me a choice, back then I wasn't as confident as I am now. Leaving home, my friends, everything I knew, I just didn't have the guts to do it so I stayed. I visited her a couple of times a year. She had moved to Tennessee and I was blown away by how life off the Reservation was. My Mom saved money for me to go to school and told me that if I wanted to leave the Reservation and get an education she would back me a hundred percent. By the time I graduated high school I couldn't wait to get out the door and to college."

"Did you and your Dad fight about that?"

"No, my parents didn't hate each other and my Dad would never stand in the way of me accomplishing something. He knew life here isn't for everyone. He helped me move into the dorms, would come and visit when he could and kept in touch. I'd come home for most of the major holidays. I went to college in Tennessee so I saw my Mom all the time. It was a great time."

"Then you saw the vampire."

I had told Dean about that, most hunters end up asking each other they got started. "Yeah, that was after I graduated and started working. There were other things too though that kept me away, mainly not being poor. At that point all I bothered to remember about being here was being poor. We shared a house with other families, I never had my own space, my own room, my own anything."

"Yeah, I can understand that."

I looked at him and gave him a brief smile, "You're probably one of the few who do. Anyway, things went well for a few years, then I saw the vampire." I took a drink of my wine, Dean was drinking some of the higher end Scotch I had.

"What about the Shaman talents, seeing other things?"

"That's always been there," I shrugged, "My Dad had it so no one here thought it odd that I was gifted in that way as well. I had several rude awakenings once I left the Reservation. It's like everything else though, if you don't use it it fades away. Once I got intensely involved in engineering and school I just turned it off. The vampire woke it back up," I shuddered, "You think they look scary on the outside, you should see how their Spirit looks."

I saw the question on his face. He wanted to know what had brought me home but I didn't want to talk about my Dad's suicide. It had been years and I still wasn't ready to. "My mom was pretty pissed off when I she found out I had quit my very nice job and taken up hunting."

"You told her?"

"Not in so many words, I told her I wanted to see the country, freelance, travel. Explore new worlds."

He laughed, "Well that's one way to put it."

"It's technically true."

"All that in four easy payments of $19.95," he joked in that "informercial" voice all hunters are only too familiar with.

I lifted my glass in a slight salute to his comment and took another drink. He didn't push for more details. We lapsed back into silence. Eventually he took my hand, led me back inside and up to bed. It was comforting to have him curl up next to me, to listen to his breathing even out as he drifted off to sleep. My mind journeyed into those corners and possibilities that I kept locked up. I had a house now, a place. I was settling down. I still went out on hunting jobs about once a month. At first I had thought I did it because I was having a hard time settling down into life on the Reservation, then I chalked it up to enjoying the thought of helping people in ways not that many other people could. The fight with Badger and seeing Dean again made me realize that I craved the adrenaline, the rush. The dance with death. It changes you and only people that have seen what you have can understand that. Dean could.

"_They don't need me here just yet, I can go out on the road again, maybe I can convince him to stay longer,"_I was halfway to plotting just how I could pull it off when the shriek of an owl reverberated through my room. I jumped. Dean's eyes flew open, he reached under his pillow, pulled his gun out, sat up and had it pointed at the door in less than three seconds.

"Where is it?" he asked.

I felt like an idiot, "It's ok, an owl shrieked outside the window, I was half asleep and jumped. Sorry."

Dean kept the gun pointed at the door for another few seconds. I watched his breathing return to normal. "Be right back." He lithely slid out of the bed, a predator in motion. Holding the gun up near his chest, shoulder brushing along the wall, his feet made no sound as he left the room. I counted the seconds and visulalized the pattern he was walking down the stairs, around the perimeter of the living room, checking the window by the front door, the lock on the door, then into the kitchen, pulling back the blinds of the sliding glass door looking out, checking the lock and back up the stairs. It took him about a minute longer than it usually took me but he was in new surroundings and my house is oddly shaped. I didn't try to stop him, follow him or turn on any lights. When I first moved into this house any odd noise would make me do the exact same thing he was doing. Paranoia, a perk of hunting.

The predator came back into the room, took another breath and slowly relaxed. "All clear."

I watched him place his gun back under his pillow. Then he curled up next to me and pulled my arm over his waist.

"Thank you," I told him. He nodded his head and drifted off again.

I reassessed the parts of Dean, he'd lost the arrogant part and replaced it with an additional part of killer. Owl had interrupted my thoughts for a reason. I had to accept it, Dean and I weren't walking the same path and there was nothing I could do to change that. Rising Dove's words that I was a guide to Sam and Dean drifted through my mind again and I knew what I had to do. I gripped Dean closer, buried my face into his back and fought back tears he didn't need to see.

I woke up later than usual, Dean wasn't in bed, my heart jumped. "Breathe Coyote, he won't leave without saying anything." I scolded myself, "Get a grip. Besides, he doesn't have a car." I knew he wouldn't steal a car from anyone here. The smell of coffee and bacon worked it's way through my momentary irrational panic. I pulled some clothes on and meandered down the stairs.

A smile and steaming cup of coffee greeted me when I walked into the kitchen, "Morning," he said and went back to cooking.

He was wearing sweats, no shirt and was barefoot. Sam had left Dean's bags for him at Rising Dove's who had snuck over while we were watching movies and dropped them off. For some reason I started to count all the various scars I saw on his torso as he moved, the number was considerably higher than last time I had seen him. Many of them looked fairly recent, they had healed but hadn't faded much. How the hell was he still alive?

He looked over his shoulder at me, he must have felt the intensity of my gaze. "Something on your mind?"

I didn't say anything at first. I didn't want to ruin the mood we had created over the last few days. "Just enjoying the view." It wasn't a complete lie, there are worse things to wake up to then an attractive, well muscled, shirtless man cooking breakfast.  
>I watched as he piled eggs, bacon and toast onto two plates, carried them over to the table, set his down first, put mine in front of me. His free hand ran up my leg to my hip, squeezed hard as he bent over and paused just before kissing me, "I was thinking the same thing when I woke up this morning and saw you were still sleeping." His lips left no question as to what else he may have been thinking.<p>

He pulled away and I had to force myself to pick up a fork instead of shove him against the wall and rip his pants off. "You're an evil, evil man." I complimented him. He winked and dove into his food, he was stable again, in control. Which meant he'd be leaving soon, I gave him two more days tops and then he'd call Sam. My appetite disappeared but I forced myself to eat anyway. I couldn't let him down now.

"So, what do you want to do today?" I asked. I could tell he was already getting restless, his movements were faster and he kept looking around even though we were totally safe.

"Road trip, Stella and Ralph's. I require more pie."

"There's still some of the blueberry pie left," I told him.

"That's yours, I want one all to myself."

I wasn't really in the mood for another long drive and he could see it.

"I'll drive," he offered, "We don't have to get there in a hurry. You said you go on a lot of hikes now. I'm sure there's some places in between here and there that are perfect for stopping at. I noticed Stella and Ralph stay open late, truckers being their main customers."

That surprised me, Dean's not really the hiking type. I looked at him over the top of my coffee cup, he was excited about this idea. I wondered if he'd been thinking about this all morning. Sam was right, Dean had never had anything close to a relationship and he was trying to get the most he could out of whatever it was that had grown between us. I had to concede Sam's other point as well. Dean did care about me and probably had for much longer than I was willing to admit. That thought didn't bring me much joy. I found myself desperately wishing I could go back in time and do things differently, find a way to make something more of this but there was no way I could. I caved to Dean's point of view, pushed the pain away and smiled.

"Yeah, there actually is a place I think you'd like," I told him, "I'm down for that as long as you don't spend the entire drive talking about all the ways you think Baby is better than Sexy."

"You named her Sexy?" Dean asked with a laugh.

"Damn straight I did. I'd have sex with her if I could, she's that hot."

"Deal. Finish eating. I'll clean up."

"You cooked, I'll clean." I corrected him.

He reached across the table, gripped my hand once and let go, "I've got it, it's fine."

Damn it, it would probably be less than two days. He was already thanking me for helping him out. "Well, if you insist," I told him. I got a slight nod in return. We cleaned up, got dressed, packed some extra clothes in case we stopped at the hotel before coming back and headed out.

"What the hell is wrong with using a key to start a car?" He growled.

"I didn't design it and personally I agree with you. Pushing a button just seems silly." I'd had Sexy for a while now and I still tried to put a key into something to start her every now and again. He shook his head and pulled out. As soon as we cleared all the houses Dean put his foot down and put Sexy through her paces.

"And?" I asked after he slammed her into sixth and we topped 160 for a few miles.

"Yeah, okay, she's hot."

"I know," I purred at his compliment to my car. I loved her as much as he loved Baby. She had replaced the Charger that I had bought with the money from my first engineering job. Hunting racked up the miles on that car and I had started trying to figure out what my next vehicle would be. One afternoon a pewter grey Challenger blew past me on the freeway and it was love at first sight. I had to have one.

He slowed down to around 90, I opened the windows and cranked the music. The hours flashed by, the turn off for the place I wanted to show Dean came up on our right and I told him to pull off. It was a dirt road but still navigable, we followed it down to the edge of a small creek and parked. I grabbed the blankets I always had in the trunk and the snacks I had stuffed into my bag before we left and led Dean downstream. The creek wound through water smoothed rocks and boulders in between stands of pine trees and then tumbled down into a small pond. There was a relatively flat spot on top of a boulder off to one side overlooking the pond. I unfolded the blanket, spread it over the rock, sat down and pulled the snacks out of my bag. Dean looked around, took a deep breath of the pine scented air and joined me.

"Snack?" I asked once he had pulled off his coat and set it next to him.

He laid down on his back, put his hands behind his head and looked up at me,"Sure. Nice place."

I handed him one of the snack bars I had, his right eyebrow arched up and his lips shifted into a very enticing shape, "Hands are busy."

"Uh-huh. The things I do for you, I swear." I teased. I pulled the paper off the snack bar and held it over his mouth. He raised his head up just enough to take a bite, then back down onto his hands and closed his eyes in utter contentment. At that moment the world had paused for him, I could tell because of how relaxed his features were. I'd never really found that feeling until I started hiking, Mother Earth has a way of stripping your cares away, softly holding you in her arms and allowing you to enjoy simply existing and nothing else. Even though it felt like I was somehow intruding upon the moment I took a picture of him, then turned my phone off and laid my head across his chest. He sighed and ran his hand along my arm, I fed him bits of snack bar along with eating my own, the sun moved over us and played hide and seek with the clouds that dotted the sky

Eventually we got moving again and pulled into the parking lot of the diner and walked in.

"Running Coyote! So good to see you!" Ralph said, "Whoever you called seems to know quite a few people. Business has already picked up." He and Stella came out from around the counter and hugged me.

Good ol' Bobby, "Glad to hear," I said. I wanted these two to have as much success as possible.

"Hi," Dean said as he reached his hand out towards Ralph, "I didn't introduce myself last time, I'm Dean. Just so you know, I can honestly tell you that your food is some of the best I have ever had, anywhere, in this country and I've driven through most of it."

Stella and Ralph beamed at him, "Thanks," Ralph replied as he shook Dean's hand, "That's always good to hear."

Stella, who's head barely reached Dean's chest gave him a tight hug and looked up into his face, "If I remember right, Running Coyote bought pecan pie the first time she came in. Was that for you?"

"Yes ma'am it was."

"Perfect, I'm pulling some out of the oven in about ten minutes."

I thought I was going to have to wipe drool off of Dean's face, he tightened his arms around her for a brief moment, "Looks like we timed it just right then."

Stella let him go and worked her way back around the counter, "Where's your other friend?" Ralph asked.

"That's my brother Sam, he had to go back to work early."

"That's too bad," Stella said, "Did you two want something other than pie?"

"Yes, please," Dean answered. We got some Black Forest Ham sandwiches with literally everything on it, I had to cut it into quarters to get it into my mouth, Dean didn't seem to have the same problem though. We sat and talked and stuffed our faces for a few hours, they told us more about the work they had done on the Reservation and other places they had traveled to help others. I was amazed at the amount of places they had visited and seen and what they had done. The few things I had done to help my people seemed so inconsequential by comparison and I was somewhat ashamed. Here were two white people who were helping my tribe more than I had. I took that lesson to heart and promised the Spirits I would start doing a lot more than I had been.

We had left my house around eight in the morning and had reached the diner a little before two, it was edging close to five now and I wasn't sure if Dean was planning to drive all the way back to the Reservation or stop at the hotel. Once we started the trip I'd decided to let Dean run things, it would help finish off the process of getting him completely stable again, but it was getting late.

I nudged his leg while he was talking to Ralph, he looked at me and I tilted my head towards the door and lifted my shoulder slightly. He barely lowered his chin in a nod, he'd gotten the hint.

"We'd better get going," he said. "Thanks for all the great food and conversation."

"Will you be back soon?" Stella asked us.

Dean's face froze ever so slightly, then he smiled. "She will be. I move around a lot but I'll try to make it back whenever I'm in the area."

"I'll bring some of my friends from the Reservation with me next time," I told her, "Promise."

They gave us both hugs, the bag with Dean's pie and we walked out. "Do you want me to keep driving?" Dean asked.

"Depends. Where are we going?"

When he spoke, his words came out so softly I almost didn't hear him, "Back to your place. If you don't mind." A truck passed us and he turned his head in response to the noise. I don't think he wanted me to hear his next words but I have pretty good hearing. "One last night, just one more."

I wrapped my fingers around his hand, he didn't turn his head but his fingers tightened around mine. "Sure, if you're up for it. I'm not really all that tired anyway."


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

I offered to take over about three hours in but he just shook his head and said he was fine. We didn't talk much but he kept his free hand resting on my leg for most of the drive. Once we crossed back over onto the Reservation I'd felt something building, not from him but from the Spirits. They wanted me to talk to him before we got home but I kept ignoring them. I had caught glimpses of coyotes watching me from the side of the road, a couple of crows drifted in front of the car but were far enough in front of us that they weren't in danger. The sun was setting. Dusk and dawn are magic times for many reasons, one is it's an in between time, veils into other worlds weaken for a few moments. The whispers I had been ignoring turned into chorus of shouts and a large snowy owl's talons scraped along the front of the windshield then it disappeared into the night.

Dean hit the brakes, "Holy shit!"

I slammed my hand onto the dash, the seat belt tightened as I was flung forward and back. "I've had enough of this! Pull over and stop!"

Dean looked at me, saw how angry I was and did as I said. I wrenched the seat belt off, threw my door open, stormed out of the car and glared up at the sky.

"I get the point, I've done everything you have fucking said, I was going to tell him in my own damn time. Back the hell off or I will leave again and you can find yourself another Shaman!" Silence greeted my outburst.

"Well?"

A coyote howled, "Not good enough."

I heard wings and looked up, a crow circled over head and something dropped on the ground in front of me. I bent down and picked up a piece of polished obsidian. "I guess this is your polite way of telling me to shut up and do what I'm told isn't it?" I snarled, a little less viciously. Among many of it's properties obsidian helps cut through illusions, lies, fear and emotional blockages. It alsohelps emotional people, like me, react more calmly to truth. It doesn't take sides.

"Tell me what?" Dean's voice came from behind me. There was an edge to it, he wasn't sure what I was talking about or who I was talking to and that made him nervous.

"How my Dad died."

His head tipped to the right, "Why is that important?"

"It will make sense, I promise." I felt the tears start to gather in my eyes. "Remember the couple of nights we spent in that crappy town in Texas? The room above the strip joint?"

"Oh yeah," he said with a smile. That was a mad monkey sex stop off, we'd watch the strippers, get inspired and go back to our room. We left a lot of extra cash that time because there wasn't a piece of furniture in the room that hadn't been dented or scratched by the time we left. Good times.

"Okay, a few days after that I felt this powerful urge to come home. I had a dream that my Dad was very sick, that he was dying."

Dean moved closer to me and took my hands in his.

"It was so real, I..." I stopped, pushing the pain down, I had to get through this. "I drove sixteen hours straight. Ran into my house and Rising Dove was there, he...he." The scene came back to me. Rising Dove, Cougar and some others were sitting in my living room, crying. Rising Dove was singing one of our funeral songs, they all turned to look at me in shock. No one had called me yet, I hadn't been home in almost a year. It was Cougar who came over to me, slowly placing his arms around my shoulders and told me what had happened.

"He had killed himself the night I had the dream." I felt the tears running down my cheeks, Dean brushed them away, "He'd been diagnosed with cancer months before. He never told me."

Dean said nothing, just pulled me closer.

"I could have helped him, I had money," I started sobbing.

Strong, gentle hands ran way up and down my back, trying to soothe me.

The anger came back then, "I was so pissed at everyone, no one had said anything. Rising Dove and Cougar told me that they knew he had been sick, but the only person that had my number was my Dad. They didn't have cells out here back then. My Dad refused to give them the number. I remember taking swings at both of them."

That wasn't all I had done, I had locked myself in my Dad's house for a week and refused to let anyone in, I called Rising Dove every name in the book and told Cougar that I never wanted to speak to him again. We buried him, I left and took out as many vampires and ghosts I could find.

"I left, and went on a hunting spree for about three months. Find, kill, drink. I blamed myself because I hadn't known earlier, I blamed him because he didn't tell me, I blamed everyone."

Dean's hands stilled on my back, he was starting to understand what this had to do with him.

"My father had left a letter for me with Rising Dove, it had my phone number in it among other things. I was too busy being angry and he never had a chance to give it to me. I ignored every message he left. Finally he left one I couldn't ignore. He read my father's letter to me, it filled up four messages."

Dean just waited. He still had his arms around me but his body was tense and mine was shaking. I hadn't told anyone about this, the memories were still so sharp, it felt like it had happened yesterday, not years ago. My guilt still ate at me.

"Turns out that by the time that he had been diagnosed it was Stage 4 and inoperable. My father knew that I would throw all my money into helping him and he didn't want that. He didn't want to be in a hospital, he didn't want me to watch him fade away. He wanted to choose his time and not be a burden. He told me in the letter that all he wanted was for me to live and be happy."

My tongue felt thick, my heart ached, it was the last part of Rising Dove's message that had hurt the worst, "After he finished reading the letter, Rising Dove said 'This is not your fault, you did not fail him. Forgive yourself.'"

His breath caught, his arms tightened around me and his face pressed against my head. " I'm so sorry," he whispered.

It took a few minutes before I could talk again, "Do you understand?" I asked.

He pulled away, "I, it's not the same."

"Tell me."

He shook his head, "No. I just want to have one more night with you without having to think about anything else. Please."

I pressed my lips to his, backed away and looked into his eyes, "Dean, Sam told me you were way past the edge before he left. That you'd been drinking, hunting non stop for years, not months. I almost got back out of the car after the fight with Badger because you scared me." That got his attention. "You were out of control even before the Sweat, you know that."

Green eyes shifted away from mine and he looked back towards the road, "I know. This is still part of that isn't it? The vision, what they wanted to tell me."

I nodded, "Yes. You don't have to listen but I've learned if you don't it's much worse."

"Let's go back to the car," he said, "This will take a while to explain."

We sat on the hood of my car and he opened up, he told me about the yellow-eyed demon, about Sam, about all of it. I was utterly horrified and scared by the end of it and had no idea how to process it or what to say.

"So, the pillars of light and dark that I saw fighting over you, the battlefield?" I asked him.  
>"Well, we know the demons want Sam for something, maybe the other side wants me. I don't know." He ran a hand over his face, that haunted look that he had when the three of us ate lunch came back. "I keep going back over everything in my head, trying to figure out what I missed. How we got here. I was supposed to keep Sam safe, then Dad tells me I have to kill him if I can't save him. How do I do that? How?"<p>

I had no answers for him.

"The worst part," Shame, deep, stabbing shame took hold of his face, "What eats me up at night, is I wonder if I should have just left him dead. He would have been free of all of this. That would have been the easy way out."

"Which you never take."

"True."

"You didn't know, you couldn't have known." I had to get that through to him. His guilt was going to keep eating into his Spirit if he didn't forgive himself.

He abruptly stood and started pacing, "Dad should have told me. He knew something was going on. If he had told me why, he never trusted me, never told me anything."

His words became more clipped and harsh. "How could he? He knew about what was wrong with Sam! We could have found a way together."

Fists clenching, anger turning his words razor sharp. The whispers were coming to me stronger now. "It's not your fault Dean," I told him again.

"Why is this my responsibility at all? Why?" Rage had brought out the predator, his movements smoothed out, I didn't move.

He threw his head back and screamed at the distant stars. "We did nothing to earn this! Nothing!"

I waited, his chest was heaving, "Nothing," sorrow took the place of rage, "we did nothing. This is too big, we can't escape it. I know that, I knew as soon as that crossroads demon only gave me a year. That was the only chance I had to stop this, whatever it is. I should have let him stay dead. Now it's too late."

"How do you know this demon wouldn't have just brought Sam back anyway?" I asked softly. His head jerked up and he looked at me. "Even if you gave Sam a hunter's funeral, his soul may still have gone to hell. Then he would have been right in this yellow eyed demon's home and become something even more powerful than someone who just has visions. Do you know for sure that your Dad knew everything that was going on?"

"No, but...,"

"But what? That Sweat we did? I can tell you that I have never heard of both Crow and Eagle coming at the same time like that, of the Spirits using two white men to chant in Latin to exorcise demons. What we saw? The intensity of it. That's not normal. You and Sam, you've been chosen. I don't know for what or why but what I do know that even if you hadn't brought Sam back to life something else would have happened to get you on a similar path to this. Maybe your Dad was wrong and killing Sam would have made it worse. Did you ever think of that? There can't be a lot of lore out there about all of this or Bobby would have told you exactly what to do, right?" The more questions I asked the more thoughtful and less guilt filled his face became.

"Think about the choices they showed you," I told him, "Not the torture, look past the horror of it and remember what they said."

I could tell he didn't want to but I knew just saying the words would trigger the images and messages in his mind. His eyes widened slightly, "What are you trying to tell me? I'm not used this whole vision thing."

I slid off the hood of the car, stepped in front of him and took his face in my hands, "That people who have been chosen like this, they will always end up where the fates, Gods, Spirits or whatever want them to be at some point."

"They want me in Hell?"

"No," I was searching for the words and they weren't coming, "What I am trying to tell you is that you would have been faced with this path no matter what choice you made when Sam died. You may not have traded your soul for Sam's life but you would have been forced to choose between Sam and something. Those pillars of light and dark, they were fighting over you for a reason and there's no escaping that. I'm sorry, but that's what they wanted to show you. So you could prepare."

I saw the fear start creeping back into his face. "They said I can't break when...when.," he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Something saves you, remember that."

"I don't want to turn into that, that thing that was licking blood..," he whispered and closed his eyes. I felt a shudder run through him.

"You won't."

"You can't know that, you can't."

I leaned in, kissed his cheeks and pressed my lips against his ear. "Yes I do."

"How?"

"Because when Sam died you traded your soul for his life without a thought and because on that battlefield, you and Sam were protecting each other, fighting for each other, not against each other. Someone that's capable of that much love for another person can never become truly evil."

He sagged against me, "My eyes turned black, I saw it."

"They turned back when you looked at Sam. You won't turn into that. I swear to you."

"I don't want to think about this anymore," he said, "I can't, not right now."

"I'll drive the rest of the way, come on." We wrapped our arms around each others' waists and walked back to the car.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

I started the car, a crow landed on the hood, "Really? Enough!" I snarled at it, it bobbed it's head at me and flew away. "Finally, they get the message."

Dean gave me a weak smile, I released the emergency break and then the music started. Soft acoustic guitar filled the car, "Oh."

"What?" Dean asked, then he recognized the song. "The crow did this?"

"Yes, but it's not just from them." I couldn't keep my emotions in check anymore and threw my arms around him, "Just listen."

_"__Hush now, don't you cry__  
><em>_Wipe away the teardrop from your eye__  
><em>_You're lying safe in bed__  
><em>_It was all a bad dream__  
><em>_Spinning in your head__  
><em>_Your mind tricked you to feel the pain__  
><em>_Of someone close to you leaving the game of life__  
><em>_So here it is, another chance__  
><em>_Wide awake you face the day__  
><em>_Your dream is over... or has it just begun?_

_There's a place I like to hide__  
><em>_A doorway that I run through in the night__  
><em>_Relax child, you were there__  
><em>_But only didn't realize and you were scared__  
><em>_It's a place where you will learn__  
><em>_To face your fears, retrace the years__  
><em>_And ride the whims of your mind__  
><em>_Commanding in another world__  
><em>_Suddenly you hear and see__  
><em>_This magic new dimension__I- will be watching over you__  
><em>_I- am gonna help you see it through__  
><em>_I- will protect you in the night__  
><em>_I- am smiling next to you, in Silent Lucidity_

We had been through so much in the last few days that as much as I wanted to cry and let it all out I found that I couldn't. All I knew was that I didn't want to let go, I didn't want to see him drive away and head towards that much pain. The lyrics paused as the instrumental break started.

"Dean..I.."

"Don't say it," he interrupted and put his fingers over my lips.

"Why?"

"Everyone else who has is dead. Don't, just don't."

The music swept to it's climax and the lyrics took back over. The whispered "Help me" right before they started made him pull me even closer.

_If you open your mind for me  
>You won't rely on open eyes to see<br>The walls you built within  
>Come tumbling down, and a new world will begin<br>Living twice at once you learn  
>You're safe from pain in the dream domain<br>A soul set free to fly  
>A round trip journey in your head<br>Master of illusion, can you realize  
>Your dream's alive, you can be the guide but...<em>

I- will be watching over you  
>I- am gonna help to see it through<br>I- will protect you in the night  
>I- am smiling next to you...<p>

The song faded, still we held onto each other. We stayed like that through two more songs, until he finally, softly, pushed me away.

"Coyote, drive. We still have a few hours to go."

I nodded, wiped my face, pulled back onto the road and took my frustration and sadness out on the transmission of Sexy. She had a short throw shifter and I took her from 0 to 140 in less than two miles, Dean said nothing.

I made it back to the house in record time. I barely shut the front door before he roughly grabbed hold of my shoulders, spun me around, picked me up and carried me to the couch. It didn't matter if he never let me say those words or that he himself would never say them, the meaning behind them was what drove his lips onto mine. The intensity of his emotions accompanied the low, soft sounds that he made while pulling off my shirt and running his hands down my sides. He would never be able to say them but that didn't decrease his ability to feel them. Underlying the intensity of the things he wouldn't say there was a desperation in how he moved, the clock in his mind had started ticking again, counting down the minutes he had left before the hounds came for him. I wasn't about to let him start feeling that just yet.

He had just flung my pants across the room and pulled me closer to him when he paused to look at me, behind the passion was fear. "We still have time, you still have time," I said.

"Not enough," he replied and his shirt followed my pants, "Don't talk, don't think, just go with this." His arms snaked behind my back, he used his hips to muscle my legs apart, I locked my feet together behind his back and did as he asked. We worked our way around most of the living room and finally ended up in bed just as the sun was rising.

We were laying in bed, facing away from the window, his arms and legs wrapped around me when the sun started to brighten the room. We hadn't slept, neither of us wanted to. His chest pressed into my back as he took a deep breath, slowly exhaled and got out of bed.

I rolled over to look at him, he stood at the foot of my bed and held out his hand. I got up, gave him my hand and he led me into the bathroom.

"Dean.,"

"Shh. Don't talk." Tender hands pushed me out of the way as he turned on the shower then pulled me close as we waited for the water to warm up. Once it did he nudged me into the shower and followed behind. He turned me so my back was to him, shifted my hair to the front, picked up the soap and slowly started washing my back, working his way down my legs and back up to my neck. I relaxed into the movement of his hands, what he was doing wasn't sexual in any way. This wasn't about sex. He finished, moved out of the way so the water could hit me, turned me again and repeated what he had done on my back down my chest and arms. Once again he allowed the water to rinse me off as he poured shampoo into his hands. He took his time, slowly running his fingers through my hair, working out the tangles he found, I moaned. When you have hair as long as mine, someone running their hands through it feels amazingly good. He lightly kissed my shoulder, rinsed my hair off and repeated the whole process with the conditioner as well. By the time he was done with the conditioner I felt completely weightless, my eyes were shut and every inch of me wanted to fall into bed with him and never get back up.

He turned off the water, caught me as I swayed, "Steady, stay there," he murmured in my ear.

I heard the shower curtain open and close, the sounds of him toweling off then his voice, "Come out."

I didn't want to move but I forced myself to step out of the shower and open my eyes. He was holding a towel for me, I stepped into the soft cotton, he wrapped his arms and the towel around me and turned me towards the mirror. We stared into each others' reflected eyes. I couldn't even begin to separate out the emotions in his face, much less mine. Love, fear, regret, appreciation, admiration, respect and pain, they were all there, all at once. The moment stretched, almost too long, I could see him start to waver, to wish. Then he closed his eyes and turned away.

"I'll call Sam and make breakfast," his voice cracked as he spoke, "Take your time."

I waited until I knew he was downstairs, the sobs took me then. I sunk onto the floor and just let the tears come.

It took me some time but I got myself back under control, dressed and joined him in the kitchen. He was already fully dressed except for his boots. He'd made pancakes this time. We ate in silence.

He broke the silence first, "Sam's coming here. He stayed at the hotel he met Bobby at, I guess Bobby stayed about two days and left. Sam said he's doing fine."

"Good. I'm glad he's stable. How long before he gets here?" I asked.

"Little over two hours."

"You know what would go well with these pancakes?" I asked.

"What?"

"Pie."

He laughed, "Coming right up."

I caught the grateful look he had on his face as he stood up. Dean and I had never been good at saying good bye. The last piece of the blueberry pie was placed in front of me, he had cut himself a piece of the pecan that was almost a quarter of the whole thing.

"Why not save me a plate and just eat yours out of the pan? You may as well with a slice that big?" I teased him.

"That would be rude."

I rolled my eyes, "Now you remember your manners."

He lightly kicked me under the table. "I must be getting senile in my old age."

"Oh, I've known that for years now. Sam will have to start doing all the driving soon because you'll forget where you are."

"Ha! Already took care of that. Have a phone with GPS, nice try." Laughter started to dance in his eyes again.

I didn't have a comeback for that, so I resorted to throwing a napkin at him. He threw it back. We looked at each other, he twitched. I dove off the chair and grabbed the extendable faucet from the sink and sprayed him in the face with water. He had planned ahead and I hadn't noticed, hidden behind the sugar container was a can of whip cream.

"Damn it Dean!" I blurted and twisted my head before he got it in my face. It was bad enough he had covered my shirt with it, "I just took a shower!"

"You threw the napkin first. Don't blame me."

I glared at him, his face was dripping water and he had a can of whip cream aimed at me. I couldn't myself and just started laughing. He joined in and took a step closer, silly him. I wiped some of the whip cream off my shirt and smothered it on his face.

"I'm taking the high road," he said, "And not retaliating. I was the one who did all the work in that shower." He winked and handed me a towel. I cleaned up and went upstairs to change shirts.

I walked by my spare room, it was time to give him what I'd made. I thought about what I was going to say when I did and realized that it would just make things awkward, we're horrible at goodbyes. I picked the pouch up off the table, ripped a piece of paper out of a notebook, grabbed a pen and sat down to write. Nothing came to me, or maybe too many things came all at once. I gave it a few minutes and eventually narrowed it down to two sentences.

"This is for when you sleep. It should help.

Coyote"

I folded the paper up, put it and the pouch in an envelope. His bags were packed, but still on the floor of my bedroom. I'd woken up with him enough on the road that I knew which bag he kept his shaving kit in, I opened it, placed the envelope under his kit where he would see it, closed his bag back up, put on a new shirt and went downstairs.

He was stretched out on the larger of my couches, which sat across from the stairs and he watched me walk down the stairs. I stood in front of him, he shifted so I could lie between his legs and lean against his chest. One of his hands went around my waist the other across my chest and he pressed his face against my head, and that's how we stayed until we heard the rumble of Baby's engine.

He sighed, I got up, watched him slide his feet into his boots and pull his jacket on. He went to get his bags and stopped by the front door. He opened it, "Sam, I'll be right out." I heard Sam say something in reply, Dean walked up the stairs, I closed my eyes.

"Keep it together," I whispered to the empty living room. I heard his footsteps on the balcony, I opened my eyes, stood up, met him at the door and pulled it open.

He looked out, his face composed itself into slightly grumpy Dean expression, he turned back to face me, leaned in and said, "Watch this," softly. I heard the laughter he was trying to hold back. I didn't understand until I looked at Sam.

Oh no. Sam's face, he looked like that kid in school who was always playing tricks on people but could never hide it. He must have been waiting for this minute ever since I sent him that picture. He was leaning against the driver's side door, his phone was already out and he was trying so hard not to smile I thought his face was going break. He never was good at strategy. This was going to be good.

Dean pulled away from me, walked down the path to the car.

"So Dean," Sam said as he held his phone up, "How was the movie?"

"Pretty good actually," Dean replied. Sam's face fell, that was not the reaction he had planned on. He'd run through all the scenarios of what Dean could say, outrage, indignation or embarrassment but not this.

Dean looked at the picture on Sam's phone, then back at me, "That's a cool shot. You'll have to send me a copy."

Sam's jaw just dropped, Dean looked at him, bust out laughing, roughly threw his arms around his brother and pulled him in close. Sam's face was towards me, he closed his eyes, returned Dean's hug, opened his eyes and mouthed "Thank you," to me. I nodded back.

Dean wasn't done yet though, as he pulled back from Sam his slid his hand down and yanked the phone away, "Mine now," he said as put his brother's phone in his pocket.

"Hey!" Sam yelped then looked at me.

I laughed, "I got you the pic Sam, the rest is all on you. Tactically speaking, you should have waited to tease Dean about this."

Sam reached for Dean's pocket, Dean evaded his hands, leaned against Baby and crossed his arms. "Nope, you messed up. It's mine."

They stared at each other, Dean held out his hand, "Well?"

Sam shook his head, "Fine," he handed Dean the keys. "I'm getting my phone back."

"Yeah, when I give it back to you. Move."

Sam half glared at Dean, walked around the car and opened the passenger side door. Dean turned, put his hand on the driver's side handle, stopped, turned to look back at me. I didn't move. He pulled his hand away, walked back up the path and stood in front of me. I still didn't move. I knew how hard this was for him and I didn't want to make things worse. Quick as striking snakes his arms captured me, one around my waist, one pulling my face towards him, our lips met, saying everything that needed to be said without speaking a word. He pulled away, I kept my eyes closed, his forehead pressed into mine, "Thank you," he whispered.

I opened my eyes, pulled back, looked into those endless green depths of his, "Anytime."

I got one more smile out of him. He brushed his fingers along my cheek, took a breath, let it out and hunter Dean reappeared back on his face. Cocky, arrogant, one part deadly, one part expert, ready to take on whatever came his way. His hand dropped to his side and he turned away, "Let's roll Sam," he said as he returned to the car. Both doors creaked open, closed, Baby's engine revved and he drove off without looking back.

I stayed there, long after the car was out of sight. I didn't want to go back into the house, it was too quiet, too empty. "You knew this was going to happen, you knew it the moment he showed up in your room." I shook my head and went back upstairs.

There was a note on the bed, I stopped, not sure if I wanted to read what was in it. His aftershave was still lingering in the air, I didn't want to see the words good bye any more than I wanted to hear them from him. My hand picked up the paper without me telling it too, I unfolded it and sank onto the sheets.

"Since we already know when my time is up, at least this time around, I may as well say it. I love you.

Dean"

A low wail came out of my mouth, a tear fell onto the paper. "Damn you Dean," I set the note aside and buried my head into the pillow. I let the tears fall, finally able to get everything out that I had held back from him, to help him. My pillow was soaked, I turned my head to read the note again and noticed some writing on the back.

"PS. I lied, your car is still a piece of crap."

I sat up, "Oh hell no! You're not getting the last word." I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and called him.

"Yeah," he answered.

"Is not!" I snarled.

I pictured that smart ass grin on his face, "Is too."

"You arrogant son of a bitch."

"I know."

There was an awkward pause.

"Hey," I said,

"Yeah?"

"You too. Drive safe."

An undertone of softness came through the speaker when he spoke again, "I will. Watch your back." He hung up.

I pulled up the picture I had taken when we stopped on the way to get pie, there were no more tears, I didn't need them. I smiled, curled up in bed and let the memories wash over me.

A few weeks later Sam was cleaning up the hotel room while his brother took a shower. It was one of the ways Sam tried to get something close to normal in his life. Hotel rooms were the closest thing he had to a home and he didn't feel right living them dirty when they left. It had been a rough hunt this time and they had gone through several six packs of beer. He was kneeling by the bed Dean had slept on, pulling an empty beer can out from under it when he saw a leather pouch under the pillow.

"Hex bag?" He pulled it out and instantly realized it wasn't. It was tan, not black, and it didn't smell like death. A hint of sage, rosemary and something else rose from it, he pulled it closer to his nose and sniffed. A sense of calm passed through him, his muscles instantly relaxed, he felt like he was drifting along on a cloud. Suddenly an overwhelming feeling of being loved hit him, he pulled the pouch away and turned it over. There was a small, silver, stylized coyote attached to the string that bound the pouch together.

"Oh," he whispered. The door to the bathroom opened behind him, he turned and saw Dean standing there. A hint of pain crossed his brother's face, of regret. Sam stood up, handed the pouch back to Dean. Dean gave him a tired smile, gripped the pouch tight and held it close to his chest, Sam turned away to finish cleaning up.

I was sitting in my Sacred spot, lines of quartz all around me, working on unmaking myself when a small squirrel skittered over to me. It put a small piece of grass in front of me and scurried away, it was the same kind I had placed in the pouch I gave Dean. "A squirrel? What does a squirrel have to do with Dean?" I picked it up and suddenly felt his arms around me. I closed my eyes, I saw his face, he looked tired but still in control. I brushed my hand over his face, he pressed his cheek into my palm then faded away.

"I love you," I whispered,

"You too." Drifted back to me.

End


End file.
